Annabelle Mathews
by IAmOnlyMe
Summary: Happy go lucky TwoBit's got a kid sister, but she's nothing like her big brother, that's for sure.
1. I need a reason?

**Author's Note: **All right, so I've always been a little fascinated with Two-Bit's kid sister since she isn't explored at all in the book. This is just one of my takes on what she _might_ be like. It's really just something that I've dabbled with a little, so I honestly have no clue what I'm going to do with it. Let me know if you have any suggestions on where I can take it or if you want me to continue it at all. Anyway, in this fic Annabelle is four years younger than Two-Bit, and this takes place two years after The Outsiders. Also, Dally is alive, but Johnny is not.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Outsiders or any familiar characters, situations or places. The lyrics are from Diary Of Jane by Breaking Benjamin.

* * *

_"there's a fine line between love and hate"_

I really hate my brother. He's so obnoxiously happy that I just want to take him down. It's wrong, I know, and I'm sure it's just flat mean, but I won't apologize for it. I'm being honest and that's more than I can say for the rest of the damn people in Tulsa.

Two-Bit likes to think that he an' I are cool, but we aren't. I can't stand the guy. Every day, he reminds me more and more of our father—a drunk.

Which is, ya know, only a little bit hypocritical since I can even out-drink him. I'm a worse person than he is. I know that much without a doubt. He don't do drugs, but I do. He don't hate, but I do.

And that's another thing about my brother, he's so damn naïve. He thinks that just 'cause I'm "only" sixteen, I can't possibly be involved in the kind of shit I am. I guess he's forgettin' that when Johnny was sixteen, he killed a kid. When Dally was sixteen, he was in the cooler. When Steve was sixteen, he was stealing cars.

Or maybe he thinks it's different 'cause I'm a girl. But Angela Shepard sure as hell ain't some kinda saint.

To be honest though, I've given up ever trying to understand Two-Bit. At this point, I don't even want to. Some tiny part of me is afraid that if I knew my brother the way other people did, the way his friends did, I'd start to like the guy. And considering the kind of shit I go through on a daily basis, the last thing I need is to feel any kind of loyalty to anyone, blood or not.

Which was why when my brother sprang into my room at one in the afternoon on Saturday, yanking open my curtains and bouncing on the foot of my bed on his knees, I hurled a pillow at him. I was hung-over and I felt like shit. I did not want a 20-year-old toddler in my face.

"Come on, Annabelle! Get up!" He sing-songed, as if we were great pals.

Leaning up to give him the deadliest glare I could muster, I growled, "Get the hell out of my room and don't you dare call me that."

"Okay Annie-Banannie!" My eyes narrowed, and I guess the threat in them was enough to get through to Two-Bit cause he quickly hastened out, shutting the door behind him.

I fell back against my mattress with a frustrated sigh. I'd never be able to get back to sleep now.

So with a muttered curse, I stumbled out of bed and threw open the door to my closet, pulling out a pair of very short shorts and a tee shirt that had the sleeves ripped off. I shuffled into the kitchen with my eyes bleary and my hair every which way. I didn't even bother to try to cover my bloodshot eyes, the little memento from last night.

That and the black tattoo of a thorny rose that was inked about four inches below my left shoulder. Damn, it still hurt too, I noticed with a wince.

Two-Bit bounced over to where I was and picked me up a little to twirl me, his arms touching the ever-sensitive spot where that tattoo was. I just about passed out from pain, but he didn't notice.

He never noticed anything.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" I snapped when he set me down, giving him a biting glare for good measure. He just grinned.

"I'm headin' over to the Curtis' today. You feel like comin'?" He asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows. I just raised one of mine so high it almost arched right off my face, a habit that appeared to run in the family, I noticed, as my brother did the same back to me.

With a shrug of my shoulders, I asked, "Why are you asking me?"

He had never invited me before, and I couldn't understand his sudden show of brotherly affection. I didn't, or maybe I wouldn't, believe that he actually cared. If he did, he would've cared when I OD-ed at Buck's and just about died two years ago. He would've been there those nights when I came home reeling from drunkenness, and he would have noticed how fucked up I was. I don't always hide the fact that I do drugs, an' if he wanted to know, he could easily find out.

Not to say, of course, that he knew about my overdose, I realized in retrospect. Dally never did tell him. I felt a little smirk cross my face at the memory.

"_What the shit is going on, Annabelle?" Dallas screamed, staring into my gleaming eyes and then letting his gaze travel across the floor. I saw recognition flood his icy blues when he saw the hand mirror on the ground, little white powder lines sitting on it. And on the other side of me was a big, half-empty bottle of vodka. _

_I just laughed and reached for the mirror, about to send myself on another trip when he grabbed a hold of my wrist in his viselike grip. "What's your fucking problem, Winston?" I remember asking, irritation creeping into my voice. I was mad cause he'd made me spill some of the cocaine I had paid good money for._

_He just started cussing, looking around him for whatever it was he wanted. Maybe a phone to call Two-Bit, or maybe a trashcan to throw out my stash. Damned if I knew, and damned if I cared. The second he let go of my wrist, I leaned back over the mirror, and when he came back into the room with a glass of water—that was what he had wanted—I was wiping at my nose._

"_Shit."_

_I laughed again, but the sound was metallic, ringing off the walls and echoing back into my ears. Things were becoming hazy around the edges and I looked up at the tow-headed boy in front of me, a smirk playing with my lips. The last thing I saw before I passed out was his panicked face._

He never really forgave me for that. I woke up the next morning with him pacing the room, his eyes tense and his hand running through his hair. He cussed me out something good that morning too, but I just flipped him the finger and stumbled out. No thank you, no explanation, no promise to quit.

I always wondered why he hadn't told Two-Bit, but I figured he just didn't want to get his hide skinned for being the bearer of bad news. Not that I thought my brother would attack Dallas Winston. Not for me anyway.

"I need a reason?" Two-Bit's voice cut into my thoughts, and I blinked up at him. What were we talking about?

He seemed to notice my confusion and his grin faded a bit. "I just think it'd do you some good," his voice was soft, concerned. But then he flashed me another one of his smiles, forcing the cheerfulness back into his tone, "You know, get out of the house a little!"

Ha. If he only knew how much I really was 'out of the house.' He still believed that I was the little girl who played with my dolls all day. Somehow, Two-Bit had managed to convince himself that I was this innocent little kid. He either didn't know or refused to acknowledge how often I was at Buck's an' how drunk I got sometimes. Of course, he didn't hang around Buck's anymore anyway, not after Johnny died, so he wouldn't know if I was there anyway.

And no one is stupid enough to tell him. Curly Shepard promised to once when he was pissed off at me, but I threatened him within an inch of his life and gave him a good sock in the stomach, one that left him doubled over, I might add with pride, and he seemed to change his mind.

Two-Bit apparently mistook my silence for agreement, and he smiled so wide I thought his teeth'd fall out for sure. He grabbed his car keys and tossed them into the air, intending to catch them but missing instead. He stared at them, sitting on the tile, and frowned. Then he glanced up where he had hurled them, and then at his hands, and then at the floor where they sat.

He seemed completely befuddled at how they could possibly have ended up there. With a roll of my eyes (sometimes I could swear he's the one on drugs, not me), I just leaned down and grabbed them, striding out to his car and leaving him to either come or not.

I could already tell that he was in one of his moods, and he would torment me for the rest of the week, maybe longer, if I didn't go with him. It wasn't my idea of fun, but I was sure I could suffer through a few hours before I took off for another of my wild nights.

Revving the engine, I waited impatiently for Two-Bit. He bustled outside and raised his eyebrow at the sight of me in the driver's seat. He was about to go around the car to make me switch places with him, but I dropped my foot on the gas pedal and let it leap forward. He realized real quick that he either got in the passenger seat or he walked, so he slid in.

Sucking in his breath as if out of fear while I floored the car, he reached for his seatbelt and pulled it. He was plannin' on putting it on, but that damn thing has never worked. He yanked it a little harder and frowned at it, perhaps finally realizing that his car was a piece of shit, but before he had time to comment, we had arrived. I parked the car haphazardly across the street from the Curtis home and hopped out, tossing the keys behind me where I assume Two-Bit picked 'em up.

* * *

A strange place to end? I'm sure. Actually, I'm not so sure I like where I started it either, but eh. If you lovely reviewers hate it too much I'll go back and rewrite this chapter completely. So let me know what you think. Also, I have no idea if her incident with coke is realistic or not. I've never done drugs, so I'm not sure if that's what an overdose is like, so forgive me for any misconceptions.


	2. Come on, Annabelle!

**Author's Note: **Wow, thanks for all the responses! I'm glad people are liking this story. I'm still not sure what I'm doing with it so that's why the updates are so slow. Once I get a little direction they should go faster. And I'm also focusing on wrapping up my other story (The Gang), so when that finally gets done I'll concentrate on this one. In the meantime, bear with me! Okay, I have _got_ to go to sleep now. Cross your fingers that I manage to wake up to my alarm in six hours (and then can actually drive without killing anyone).

**Previous chapter: **Annabelle reluctantly agreed to go with Two-Bit to the Curtis's.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from Saturday by Fallout Boy.

(psh, stupid editing system keeps erasing my smileys! So yeah, in your mind, insert one here, lol)

* * *

_"i'm going nowhere fast"_

In a matter of seconds, I was at the rusted gate, and for a moment, I wavered. Did I really wanna do this?

I hadn't so much as talked to these people in over a year, and I was sure that it'd be awkward as hell. But I couldn't bail now; Two-Bit was approaching, whistling a jaunty tune. He walked right past me and up the steps, glancing back over his shoulder when he got to the screen door and noticed I wasn't following. "Come on Annabelle!"

With a roll of my eyes at the use of my hated name, I strode after him and into the house. It seemed that everyone stopped talking, stopped breathing to look up at me when I entered, although I'm sure that's not true. It was just that dramatic of a moment for me.

Two-Bit didn't notice a thing, an' he just wandered straight to the kitchen to see if they had any beer or cake. I'll never understand why Darry lets him freeload like that. I'll sure never let him eat all my food, family or not.

"Hey Annabelle," Soda grinned, his brown eyes dancing. I hadn't seen him in two years, and that was just a passing glance at Johnny's funeral. I had only been there for about ten minutes before I had left.

I nodded my greeting, feeling my face tighten into its automatic defensive, icy mask. I could look like a bitch when I wanted to.

Pony was already staring at his shoes, and I was sure I knew why. He was the same age as me, and a grade higher in school, so he had surely heard some stuff about me. He was too shy to ever tell the rest of the gang, thankfully, but that didn't mean that he didn't know.

From the kitchen, Two-Bit sauntered out with a plate of chocolate cake. "Wansome?" He mumbled, icing already smeared on his mouth. I wrinkled my nose and shook my head.

"Are you sure you don't want any food, Annabelle? I've got some eggs on the stove," Darry said, his voice just as strong and firm as I remembered it. He'd always been too much of a parent, which made me uncomfortable around him. Boy, if he knew the kinds of things I was mixed up with I was sure he'd have my hide. Even if he ain't my dad or my guardian or my brother, he still feels like he has to be the protector of the whole gang, and that includes the siblings of his friends.

"No." I said, and simply frowned when Two-Bit gave me a stern eye. He was trying to tell me that I should be polite, but I don't take orders from anyone, certainly not the kid eating cake and watching Mickey that seems to think he has some role in my life.

Dally flicked a cigarette out of his case and I couldn't help but shift uncomfortably. He was staring at me, his gaze icy, and I knew he was thinking back to that night at Buck's. "So what have you been up to, _Annabelle_?" He smirked.

I just shrugged my shoulders and sat down, refusing to give him the pleasure of an answer, and when no one was looking I flipped him the finger, to which he scowled.

Maybe it wasn't my smartest idea to piss off Winston, but I wasn't much in the mood to care. I wanted a good trip, but I was stuck at this fucking house until I could slip out unnoticed.

I slid my hands into the pocket of my shorts and fingered the edge of the plastic baggie. My heart jumped a little—I wanted it now—but I just rolled my eyes and leaned back against the couch.

"You in?" Soda asked, pulling out a deck of cards and grinning wildly.

From behind me, on the couch, Steve snorted, "Don't play with him, he'll cheat."

This seemed to instigate an impromptu wrestling match between the two best friends. One second Soda was in front of me and Steve was behind, an' the next, Soda was flyin' to the couch and then shoving Steve off. He fell down to the floor right next to me with a thump, and then pulled Soda down, and I jumped in surprise, scooting away a few feet.

I appeared to be the only one puzzled by their antics. Two-Bit was still glued to the TV, and Pony didn't even notice. Darry was back in the kitchen, but I doubt he would've thought twice of it either, and Dallas just rolled his eyes, taking a drag on his cigarette.

Pony coughed a little as the smoke reached him, and he frowned. "Dal, do you have to do that in here? You know I quit." This was news to me. Last I'd known, the kid was an avid smoker, never without a cig, but then again, that was two years ago.

Dally just shrugged, unaffected. Finally, Pony got up and stepped over the two wrestling kids (Soda had Steve in a tight headlock now) and out to the front porch. I watched him go, but didn't make a move to say anything.

I used to have a crush on Ponyboy, back when I was ten. I thought he was the dreamiest kid there was, and I had made Two-Bit bring me along whenever he came over. Back then, I'd almost felt like a part of the gang. Mrs. Curtis was always fawning over me, feeding me her home-cooked meals, and Soda'd treat me like I was his little sister. Steve didn't much care for me, but I don't think he ever liked anyone that was younger 'an him cause he hated Pony too.

But then Dad took off an' I fell in with a different crowd. By the time Pony's parents died, I hadn't even talked to Mrs. Curtis in a year. I felt real bad at first, guilty cause I knew she would've been disappointed in me if she had any idea the kinds of things I was doin', but then I did my first round of coke and it was forgotten.

And now, Pony thought he was too good to even be in the same room as me. He couldn't look at me and he didn't want anything to do with me. I couldn't really blame the kid, he was goin' places and he shouldn't mess it up by screwing around with me, but it still hurt.

_Not for long though_, I determined, smirking a little as I remembered the bag of white powder that was stashed in my pocket. Damn, I needed a beer. And glancing in toward the kitchen where a six pack was sitting on the counter, the battle between desire and common sense began. I knew I shouldn't take one cause then I'd be pretty much waving it in everyone's faces that I wasn't as innocent as they thought I was, but I wanted one.

With a frustrated sigh, I stayed put.

_Just… _I looked at the clock, _52 more minutes and I can leave._

Soda hollered uncle, and I looked over to see that Steve had somehow turned the tables and was gripping Soda's neck in his elbow. Finally, they stopped wrestling and, panting, they sat back up.


	3. I'm in

**Author's Note: **Big thanks to Bowlingforshrimp for pointing out my mistake about Buck's, which I have officially changed in this.

**Previous chapter: **Annabelle got to the Curtis's and suffered through an awkward half hour or so with her brother's friends, who she hadn't spoken in quite a while.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from Boston by Augustana.

* * *

_"you don't know me / you don't even care"_

"I say we get a game of football goin'!" Soda chirped, grinning wildly as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Darry shrugged his agreement and Steve nodded, which I guess sealed the deal because everyone started standing up. Soda was the first to bounce out the door, and Steve followed his buddy at a more leisurely pace. Shaking his head, Darry grinned after the two and turned to me. "You wanna play?"

"She's itty bitty, Darry! She'll get crushed!" Two-Bit piped up. I hadn't been plannin' on playing but that right there changed my mind. He really didn't think I could take care of myself, did he?

Glaring, I nodded, "I'm in."

Darry grinned and Two-Bit just staggered on outside, grabbing a new beer bottle as he left with Dally close behind. Pony was already at the lot, so Darry and I walked together, stuck in an uncomfortable silence.

I was absentmindedly fingering the baggie in my jean pockets, and Darry was shuffling along beside me, staring ahead of him.

"So how've you been, Annabelle? I haven't seen you around in a while," he said.

Shrugging, I answered with a simple "fine" and then we reached the lot, thankfully, so we broke off into teams.

I got stuck with Steve, Soda and Two-Bit. Steve looked bored with the game, and Soda was bouncing around so much I was afraid he was gonna rocket right off the Earth. Two-Bit had his hands stuffed in his pockets as he glanced around him in indifference. With these guys, we were sure to lose.

Still, whatever chance we had I was gonna take. I wanted, suddenly, to prove myself. To who I'm not sure. Maybe to Two-Bit so that he'd start to understand that I wasn't a little kid, maybe to Pony to let him know that I'm more than just a drugged up slut, maybe to Dally so that he'd realize that I don't always screw up. Whatever my reasons, I was pretty damn determined, and I usually get what I want.

Halfway through the game, we were managing to hold our tie with the others. They were slowly starting to take a lead though, and I was getting frustrated.

After the football sailed right over Two-Bit's head while he was cat-calling to some blonde walking down the street, I sighed loudly and stalked to where he was still whistling after her.

"What the _hell_ was that?" I demanded, finally getting his attention.

He grinned lopsidedly, "Whatcha so mad about, Annie-Banannie?"

And then, I kid you not, he had the audacity to ruffle my hair. I think I just about bit his hand off and, getting in his face, I growled, "What did I tell you about calling me that?"

He was finally starting to realize that I was really upset and he frowned as Darry suddenly appeared beside us. I guess I looked like I was about to kill my brother, which I s'pose I was, and Darry gently pushed us apart. "It's just a game, Annabelle," he said gently as the rest of the guys started to gather around.

I snorted. _Right. It's **just** in this football game that my brother can't even give me the time of day. He never ignores me any other time. _"Sure, Darry, sure it is," I said, my voice tinged with sarcasm and my eyes never leaving Two-Bit's. Then I turned an' walked away from 'em all, ignoring the strange glances they were throwing after me.

Some tiny part of me wanted them to call me back, to not let me leave, but they just watched me walk off. They didn't give a damn.

And that was just fine, I decided with determination. I sure as hell don't need them.

I could use a smoke though, I realized bitterly as I walked along the side of the street toward the Dingo.

I was about halfway there when I heard a car slow to a crawl beside me. Socs, I thought in horror. Or, even worse, my brother. With those two choices running through my head, I whirled around and glared at the driver, and he chuckled. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Well damn it, Curly, you scared the shit outta me. Don't do that."

"What, don't offer you a drive to wherever you're headin'?"

I eyed the car warily. It was a '66 Corvair, and there was no fucking way that it was Curly's. Then again, did I care if it was hot?

So with a shrug, I hopped in the passenger side and leaned my head back against the headrest with a sigh. "Long day?" He asked, looking over at me once he had pulled away from the curb.

"Keep your damn eyes on the road, would you?" I snapped, ignoring his chuckle of amusement.

"It's pretty hard to keep 'em away from you," he flirted, his tone dead serious.

"Shut your trap, Shepard."

We managed to get the rest of the way without me killin' him, but just as he pulled into the parking lot, he spouted off another pick-up line, this one dirtier than hell, and I hopped outta the car. I flipped him the birdie as I left, still annoyed with having to constantly fend off his advances.

The kid's okay, but he ain't all that smart and he's a player. He ain't hung up on me, made proof by the girl he started making out with about two minutes after I left him in the parking lot.

Damn it, one time and he thinks he can get it whenever he wants to. I wasn't so mad that we had fucked that night two years ago at Buck's, my first time actually, but I was pissed that he assumed it meant anything. I had been drunker than shit, and he was just there, someone to be with.

I'd started having sex the night of Johnny's funeral, and since then I can't even keep track of how many times I've done it. My first time wasn't magical or special like I'd used to dream it would be, not one bit.

_I was sitting at the kitchen table in Buck's, my head laid down on my arm and silent tears streaming from my eyes. Six empty beer bottles were lined up in front of me, and the one I was workin' on then was already half drank._

_No one in the gang was at Buck's, not even Dally. They were all at the Curtis house, mourning. _

_When I finished my seventh beer, I stood up shakily and stumbled to the fridge to grab another. Buck was leaning against the counter beside it, and he took one look at my red-rimmed eyes, glazed over as they were, and shook his head. _

_Ignoring him, I started to yank on the door, but he put his hand over it, "you ain't even 21, kid." If I weren't so drunk, I woulda been able to push him into leavin' me alone and letting me have another, but in the state I was in, it just wasn't possible._

_I remember cussing at him, although my words slurred together so I just sounded like some drunk, raving lunatic, which I guess I was._

_And then I stumbled into the living room, running right into Curly. He had a lazy smirk on his face, one that had I been sober I would have wiped right off with a good sock to his chin. But I was trashed, which he knew._

"_Hey Annabelle…" he stepped closer to me, and I stepped back. We continued this little dance until I felt my back hit a wall behind me. He had cornered me, and I wasn't aware enough of what was going on to get myself out of the shit I had gotten into._

_And then he was kissing my shoulder and my neck, and it seemed suddenly that the sounds of the party faded. Everyone was still there, shooting pool and talking like always, but it all seemed muffled._

_I think I mumbled something, telling him to stop, but it either didn't come out recognizable or else he just didn't care, or maybe both._

_His hands were roaming to my hips, and then he pulled away and started walking to the stairs, holding my fingers in his. I followed along doggedly, still trying to clear my head, but before I had a chance to we were on the second floor. I tried tuggin' my hand away, but Curly Shepard is a pretty strong kid, and then we were in one of the bedrooms._

_I watched from the foot of the bed as he locked the door and then turned to me with that smirk flickering across his face before it disappeared again. Then he was in front of me, kissing me again, sucking my breath away along with any protests._

_He picked me up and then set me down on the bed, my head lying on the pillows, and then he climbed up on top of me, straddling me as he slid my shirt off. I was watching all of this happen as if it were a movie and it was happening to someone else, not me. It didn't feel real._

"_I love you, Baby, you know that?" He kept whispering as he undressed me, and I was so addicted to what he was saying that I finally relented, body and soul, giving him exactly what he wanted._

_Afterward, I fell asleep with him beside me, but he was gone when I woke up the next morning, with a pounding headache, no less. _

But that was all in the past. It was a mistake, sure, but my whole life was just one big screw up so that was nothing new. I didn't really hate Curly for what had happened. I had been the one stupid enough to get myself drunk like that, and plus, if I had ever really wanted him to stop, he woulda. The thing is though that I hadn't wanted him to, not even when I was telling him to quit or when I tried to tug my hand away.

I let him use me for the same reason I let every other damn guy in Tulsa do it—I want to feel loved, even if for just one night.

* * *

So yeah, there's chapter three. That's all I've got written up, so I'll try to get some more done before too long, but with school starting next week (ugh), no promises. I don't usually let this stuff go months or anything though, so more like two weeks top?


	4. How much for the night, Baby?

**Author's Note: **Eh, not too fond of this chapter, but I think it does a pretty good job at setting up the life that she lives now and the way that she feels, so I'm keeping it in.

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle walked haflway to the Dingo, until Curly caught up with her and drove her the rest of the way, and she thought back to the night of Johnny's funeral.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from Grenade Jumper by Fallout Boy.

* * *

_"living like life's gone out of style"_

With one final sigh, I pushed my wavy auburn hair from my face and looked away from the mirror. I was ready to go out. Buck's would be hoppin' since it was a Saturday night, and I never missed a party.

For just a split second, I wanted to wipe off all the makeup on my face, and I wanted to tug at the hem of my skirt and yank it down just a little farther, but the feeling passed—it always did—and then I was walking out the door.

My heels clicked on the pavement as I started the walk to Buck's. My mom had left for work an hour ago, and I didn't give a damn where Two-Bit was. I hadn't seen him since that football game earlier.

I musta looked real trashy, walkin' beneath the yellow streetlights dressed the way I was in the middle of the night, and I got the usual catcalls from passers-by. Of course, some jackass leaned out his car window, slowin' down to a crawl beside me.

"How much for the night, Baby?" He called out, and but I kept my eyes ahead of me, not even sparing him a glance, and flipped him the birdie. He just laughed and sped off, and I only let the millions of curse words I wanted to call him echo in my head. It just ain't smart to run your mouth with that kinda shit when you're alone on a dark street.

I could hear Buck's before I could see it, that damn country music pulsing through the walls and down the street. I don't think anyone likes that shit except for Buck, but we all put up with it, mostly because after an hour we're all too drunk to care.

"Ann!" Angela stumbled out of the crowd to me as I walked through the door, shouting curses over her shoulder at the guys who complained about her stepping on their toes in those killer heels of hers. I think she could put a hole right through a foot with those things. Of course, mine weren't much better.

I like Angie pretty good; she's loyal as hell and don't take crap from anyone, and I admire that about her. She and I wound up at the same places so often that we just naturally became friends.

"How long've you been here?" I shouted over the music.

"Pretty damn good, you?" I rolled my eyes. The girl always was deaf in the first place, so add loud music and she won't hear a word you say.

Instead of trying to talk to her, I just waved my hand in a noncommittal gesture and made my way to the kitchen. It was packed, people standing around drinking, and I grabbed a beer from the fridge and hopped up onto the counter, popping the top off.

As I drank, I let my gaze travel around the party to see who all was there. Through the door, I could see Tim off in the corner with some blonde eating his face, and Curly walking up the stairs behind Beth, a loud and obnoxious girl I've gone to school with before. _So that covers all the Shepards,_ I thought, _but who else?_

I almost wished I hadn't been curious to see who was there when a white-blonde head turned toward me from the corner of the kitchen. He flicked his eyes over me and watched as I finished off my first beer of the night.

We held eye contact for a good minute before he finally looked away, just shaking his head. I can't tell you how low that made me feel, even worse than that bastard's hooker comment as I was walkin' over.

But I shrugged it off pretty quick and, grabbing another beer, I walked on out to the living room. I was pushing my way through the crowd to find Angie when an arm snaked around my waist.

I turned and saw Jeff. He was grinning as he pulled me closer to him, and I let him. He had his chin on my shoulder and his arms around my waist, and I put mine up around his neck. I guess we were dancing, swaying slightly to the awful country music, but it didn't feel much like dancing to me.

We were so close I could feel every muscle in his body, and his heart was beating beneath my ear, faster and faster every second.

Leaning back a little, I knocked down the rest of my beer and tossed it off to the side where the couch was, listening for the soft thud that promised me it had fallen onto a cushion.

I studied Jeff's face for a minute, the way his eyes were watching mine, the way his mouth was curled up slightly on the side in a smirk.

I knew what he wanted, and I knew also what I am. I'm a casual fuck for whatever guy wants it, but is that really so bad? At least for one hour, I'm not so damn lonely.

So, smiling seductively, I took his hand and started to slowly lead him to the stairs. At the bottom, before I stepped up, I turned and kissed him deeply, my hand on his chest, waiting until I felt his tongue start to push against my lips to break away and start up the stairs. I wasn't holding his hand anymore, and I listened for the sound of his footsteps on the creaking stairs as I continued up.

Finally, when I was halfway up, they came, and I smiled, feeling strangely accomplished.

At the top of the stairs, I walked straight to the second room on the left, the one I liked best, and I slipped in through the door, leaving Jeff to either follow or not, which he did, of course. Taking his shoulders in my hands, I gently pushed him to the bed and let him sit on the edge as I locked the door. Once I heard it shift, I turned back to him and slowly, very slowly, licked my lips.

He was up in a second, in front of me, kissing me against the door. He was hungry for more, and he picked me up in his strong arms, leading me back to the bed and setting me down on it as he tore off his shirt.

_The kid don't waste any time, does he?_ I thought as he unbuckled my jeans and ripped them off passionately. Damn, things were going fast, and for a single second, my mind ran with panic. Did I want this to happen?

But then it was happening, and I didn't have any choice. Not that I would have stopped it anyway.

Still though, I couldn't help the tiny tear that escaped my eye afterward, when he just kissed my lips as he buckled his belt and then slipped out the door, leaving me alone, naked on the bed.


	5. It's about you

**Author's Note: **Welp, it's been a while, but here's a nice long, angsty chapter to make up for it!

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle went to a party at Buck's and spoke briefly with Angela Shepard, her good friend, and then ran into Jeff...

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from Nobody's Home by Avril Lavine.

* * *

_"open your eyes"_

After I pulled on my clothes and walked back downstairs, I could hear arguing coming from the kitchen an' I poked my head in through the door. Fights are fun to watch, they ease the monotony of Buck's parties.

Leaning back against the counter with a cigarette dangling from his lips and a flaring glare in his eyes, Dally was arguing with Buck. "No, damn it!" He growled, pounding his fist into the counter to make his point.

"I got big bucks on this, Dal! If you ain't gonna do it, then I'll find someone else to ride!"

Dally snarled and got closer to Buck's face, blowing a ring of smoke straight at him, "Go an' see if you can find someone else a day before the race, I dare ya."

Then he leaned back again, satisfied that he'd made his point, and glanced around the room. He caught sight of me watching, and he just gave me a disgusted look, probably cause my shirt was still a little off-center. I felt the blush of shame start to creep up my neck. Damn it, he shouldn't have the power to make me feel so obscene. He had no right—it wasn't like he was some kinda saint. I'd seen him enter and exit those rooms with a million different girls.

But I chased away the feeling of dirtiness with a hard shot that burned my throat.

Half an hour or so later, Angie caught up to me. She took one look at my flushed face and the bottle of vodka I'd already drained a fourth of, and she grabbed my hand, yanking me outside.

Only once we were leaning against the porch, the sounds of the party hushed a little, did she finally talk, "who?"

I leaned my forehead aginst the cool wood of a porch column and sighed, "Jeff."

She nodded, "he's cute."

I only shrugged, and she let out a heavy sigh. "You need to stop this, Ann. Stop feelin' like you're doin' something wrong, 'cause you ain't."

Angela's probably the only person that knows how I always feel afterward. Sometimes, I envy her. She never feels dirty or wrong. She knows how to just have fun and not let assholes like Dallas Winston make her feel bad for it. Hell, she's even been with Dally once or twice.

Why don't he ever give her a disgusted look like he always gives me?

Angie was still watchin' me though, not willing to leave me alone until she was sure I had gotten her message, so I shrugged and forced a smile to my face, pulling that white bag out of my skirt pocket.

"I'll be fine," I said with a smirk, and she just shook her head, but she didn't make me feel bad like Dally did when he made that same gesture.

"Shit, you're crazy. I'm headin' back in, Ann, I'll catch you a little later."

"Sure you don't wanna join?" I asked, and she shook her head.

"You know Tim just about killed me last time he caught me doin' that shit."

I nodded and chuckled a little as she slipped back inside. Damn, the oldest Shepard had been fucking mad. Tim I never minded so much, even if I thought his brother was a creep. He wasn't like Curly.

Tim was tough, and he was mean, sure, but he did give a shit about people, especially his siblings. Even if Curly was screwed up, it wasn't cause o' Tim—he'd done everything he could to make him wise up, even if his efforts hadn't worked.

And Angie… well even though he ain't the model brother, he still does care. Sure, he knows the kinds of shit she does with guys, and I don't think he likes it, but he ain't gonna stop her. Most of the time, he just lets her do what she wants to, but when drugs come into play… well, he ain't too fond of that.

Tim is a hood, but he ain't no druggie. A few months back, he'd walked in on Angie and I just rolling a joint—we wasn't even doin' hard drugs—and he flipped. Started screamin' at her and took away my stash. He told her that if he ever caught her with anything but a plain smoke cigarette again, he'd make her regret it, and then he had turned his gaze to me.

I think he was about to start goin' into his spiel with me too, but I just rose my eyes to his and shook my head a little, tellin' him that he better not even think about it. I ain't his sister and he don't get to decide what I do.

So finally, he had just said, quietly, "Annabelle, you come talk to me if you ever need to."

That was his way of tellin' me that I shouldn't be doin' drugs, and I had just nodded and shrugged. He left me alone, but he was still real weird whenever Angie an' I were alone together. He'd walk into the room ten times just to make sure we weren't doin' drugs.

But I pushed thoughts of the Shepards from my mind. They weren't some kinda model family, so I didn't need to be comparin' myself to them. Hell, Angie can't never sleep at home when her stepdad's there or else he'll try stuff with her, and her mom sure doesn't give a shit what her husband does. Tim's always gotta make sure he's home whenever Angie is just to keep her from havin' to fend off that bastard's advances.

So I laid out a perfect white powder line on the rail of the porch and then I got to my knees before it, leaning over it just as the porch door behind me swung open. I didn't pay it much mind, figurin' it was just Angie or some crocked partier that'd bug me about usin' some of my stash.

But then Dallas Winston's harsh voice cut through the night air, "What the fuck do you think you're doin?"

"Trippin'," I answered with a roll of my eyes, ignoring him.

"Shit, Annabelle, I thought you learned better two years ago!"

I just looked up at him, and smiled wryly. "You think the thought of death scares me?" Maybe I meant it be lighthearted, said as a joke to loosen him up, or maybe I didn't. Either way, it came out dead serious, and his icy blue eyes widened a little more.

His shock was quickly replaced with rage though, and my heart skipped a beat in fear before I managed to put my icy mask back up. "This shit has gotta stop. I ain't gonna let you do this anymore. I assumed that you'd smarten up and quit when you almost died, but you proved me wrong. I'm tellin' your brother."

I guess it was supposed to be a threat, but I just laughed harshly. "You think he cares? You think he's gonna give a fuck if I'm using? Even better, you think he can stop me? Damn, Winston, I'd never figured you as naïve."

In a flash, he was before me, his hand grabbing the top of my arm and yanking me to my feet. His blue eyes were stormy, and I knew that he was in one of his dangerous moods. "Johnny is _dead_, Annabelle, and you're just gonna throw your life away? I didn't know you were that much of a selfish bitch."

I knew he was still grieving the loss of the kid, but I had no sympathy. Maybe the old me would have, but not this new me. The new me hadn't given a shit when March 1st came and went, and all the rest of the gang was mourning. He woulda been eighteen that day, and everyone had gotten together to eat one of the Curtis' chocolate cakes. They even iced it for him, wishing him a happy birthday, even if he would never get to eat it.

It was tragic, and I shoulda cried too. I shoulda cared.

I didn't though, just like I didn't care that I was about to piss off Dallas Winston in the one way that'll really get to him. "He got what he asked for, don't tell me to feel bad about it."

With a snarl, Dally reached his hand back and I prepared myself for the backhanded blow I was sure I'd feel. My eyes shut in waiting, but after a few minutes, I cautiously opened them and stared into the red face of Dallas. He was still raging mad, but he had a look of strained control in his eyes. "Johnny wouldn't have wanted me to hit you. That's the only reason I ain't gonna. He always said that you were a good kid, that you were just goin' through some shit and you'd turn out tuff enough, ya know that? He stuck up for you, and you didn't even go to his funeral." His voice was biting, harsh and angry, and I felt tears prick against the back of my eyes.

No, damn it, no. I wasn't gonna cry, not in front of Dallas Winston. My throat stung as I tried to choke down the growing lump. "I was there," was all I could manage to rasp out. I had shown up, after all. Not for long, but I had been there long enough to see his burnt body, the scar on his cheek, the black hair, free of grease for the burial.

It had been too much for me to handle. I couldn't seem to accept his death, and I didn't like having it thrown in my face. Everyone showed up for it too, the Shepards and some kids from Brumly, a few Socs and, of course, Dally.

That was another thing. I had expected Dallas to be as cool and tough as ever, but he wasn't. He hadn't stopped crying the whole day, I heard. Silent tears running from his eyes and dripping off his chin, and when Johnny was buried, he'd started sobbing, his whole body shaking.

He stood off by himself and wouldn't let a soul near him. While I was there, I watched as Darry walked up to him and tried to talk to him, an' Dally just shoved him away, that familiar anger flaring in his eyes. He didn't wanna be pitied, that much me made clear. Even threw a punch at ole Tim, his best buddy, just 'cause Tim told him he was sorry. He even cried angrily, the drops falling from eyes that blazed so furiously I coulda sworn his tears had a red tint to them, from the fire. Later, picturing it, I wondered how they didn't burn his skin, but I was a little baked, so maybe that was why.

Just the sight of Dallas Winston crying was too much though, too unnatural. Just that was enough to tip my entire world.

I finally choked down the lump in my throat and closed my eyes until the tears stopped threatining to fall. Looking up at Dally, I saw the biting hatefulness he always wore on his face. There was no sympathy or pity, and for that I was thankful. This, at least, was normal. I preferred to have him angry with me than to have him pity me, or cry himself like he had at the funeral.

Grabbing my arm in his rough hand, he started yanking me around the house and to the front. My eyes were flashing and I tried to pull out of his grasp, but he was too strong. "Ow, damn you Dallas, you're hurting me!" I screamed at him, but he didn't even look at me.

He dragged me to Merril's T-Bird and then got in, floorin' the car and goin' straight to the Curtis'. I was cussin' at him the whole way, but I wasn't stupid enough to jump out of a moving car, even if I was half drunk.

When he finally screeched to a stop in front of the Curtis house, he hopped out and grabbed my arm again, pulling me up the porch steps and then shoving me in ahead of him, finally letting go as he stood in front of the door, blocking my exit.

After I gave him a good glare, I turned my gaze to the room and found the whole gang lounging inside. Everyone was just sittin' around, playing cards or talking. Two-Bit didn't even have a beer beside him. He'd cut down a lot since Johnny died.

But Dally halted my observation. "Tell 'im," he demanded.

I simply glared at him.

"Annabelle…" his voice was threatening, and I saw his blue eyes darken angrily. He was in that mood again, and he was dangerous to screw with now.

Of course, the new me didn't care if he was gonna kill me or not. So instead of telling Two-Bit anything, I simply snarled, "Fuck you."

In an instant, Dally had crossed the distance between us and had grabbed my shoulders. The vein in his neck was bulging and his biceps were tensed. Nope, I observed with an insane amount of serenity, he was still the same old Dallas Winston. In fact, since Johnny died I think he's gotten a little worse. Now there's nothing keeping him from hating.

"Hey, Dal, stop!" Two-Bit pulled him away from me, with Darry's help. I stood in front of him and smirked, watching as he struggled and finally relaxed in their grip.

Then, just because I could, I taunted, "Little John John ain't here anymore, Dal. Why don't you just hit me? Huh? Do it. I dare you. Or are you suddenly not all that tough anymore, now that you ain't got that pussy beside you to make you look rougher?"

It was wrong, and I knew it before I said it. I had loved Johnny Cade just as much as everyone else. He was the one guy that I had been closest to out of the gang. I probably even felt more for him than I did for my own brother. Oh, he'd be ashamed if he saw me now.

It seemed that I had finally crossed the line though, and even sweet Sodapop was staring at me in a mix of shock and rage. I tore my gaze from Dally's icy eyes, which had grown even colder, if it was possible, at my words. Letting my glare travel to each of the guys scattered before me, I observed their reactions.

Two-Bit was staring at me as if he had no idea who I was, and I s'pose he don't anymore. Pony's eyes were closed, and I watched curiously as he breathed shakily for a minute before finally opening them again and looking at me, a filmy layer of unshed tears making his eyes gleam.

Steve was scowling furiously and he had tensed, lookin' as if he were about to jump me then and there, and his buddy Soda wasn't even poised to stop him. I don't think he would've been sad to see Steve pound me into the ground, not the way he was gaping at me.

Darry was the one that really got me though. He wasn't mad, and that was probably what scared me the most, even more than the way Dally was glaring at me—like he was gonna kill me in his sleep.

No, Darrel was just watching me, his expression concerned. I couldn't take his worry. I just couldn't.

So with an angry snarl, I started toward the front door. I only made it a few steps before Two-Bit had barreled right into me though.

He tackled me clear to the ground, and I crashed down with a thud, struggling to get out from under him. My own brother was tryin' to get me into a headlock, and was, unfortunately, succeeding. Gasping, I fought against him, not willing to give in just yet. After getting a few good hits in that knocked the breath right out of him, I finally lost. He had his arm around my neck so tight I could barely breath. "Damn it, Annabelle, take it back!"

Two-Bit's voice was gravelly, and it wasn't from the fight, I realized. It was cause he was trying to hold back tears. I had thrown Johnny's death into these boys' faces, and my brother was both furious at me and grievous for his old pal.

I shook my head though, as much as was allowed in his grip, and struggled to keep breathing. Damn it, he was choking me.

"Two-Bit, cut it out! Come on, let her go!" Darry pulled my brother up and pushed him back a little. Then he knelt in front of me. I was on my hands and knees, gasping as I tried to regain my breath and fight off the lightheadedness. When I finally felt like I could without fainting, I got to my feet, ignoring Darry's outstretched hand.

I glared at Two-Bit, but he was glowering right back at me, breathing heavily from the struggle.

Dally's eyes had finally lost their flare, and he leaned back against the wall, smoking and watching with spite. "She's using," he spoke up, smirking when I turned my wrath on him.

Now this seemed to get everyone's attention, and all eyes snapped to Dallas. "What?" Darry barked.

"I found her with this at Buck's just now," Dal tossed Darry the bag of coke, and he caught it, staring at it in shock.

Then he looked at me, "Is this true, Annabelle?"

I coulda lied, but I doubt anyone woulda believed me anyway. So instead, I shrugged, careful to keep emotions off of my face.

"How long?" Two-Bit asked in a strangled voice. Oh, so now he's worried, huh? Fuck that.

"A hell of a lot longer than you'd think, _brother_," I spat out.

Two-Bit was gonna drop it at that, still reeling from the news of the drugs and the realization of the hatred I possessed, but good ole Darry wasn't gonna let me get off that easy. "How long, Annabelle," he demanded.

"Almost three years," I said with a hint of pride, relishing the look of shock that hit everyone. I could read their thoughts right off their faces—_how hadn't we noticed?_

I felt no sympathy. They _should _have noticed.

"W-why?" Pony stuttered out, and I turned my glare on him.

"Because I fucking wanted to, okay? Just leave me alone, none of you have any right to tell me what I can or can't do!"

Two-Bit finally spoke, "I'm your _brother_." And that just pissed me off.

I laughed harshly, "Brother. Right. Where were you when I started? When I came home drunk? When Dad left? Huh?"

"Is that bastard what this is about, Annabelle? Our dad?" Two-Bit's tone was biting and spiteful, and I knew I probably shouldn't have brought our father up. But it was true. When he abandoned us, Two-Bit could think of no one but himself. Poor little Keith. What about me? Did he ever notice that I cried myself to sleep every night for ten months? Or what about Mom? Did he see the bags under her eyes, or hear her sobbing softly in her room at night? No.

"You still don't get it, do you? It's about _you_." And with that last snarl, I turned and stalked toward the front door. Darry's hand reached out and grabbed my arm to stop me, but I whirled on him with a look of such hatred that he let go, shocked.

I was gone before they could blink, out into the cold night air.

* * *

What do you think, am I making her a little bit too spiteful, or can you still understand why she's this way, even if she is being a bit of a jerk? Input is always appreciated, so let me know if you have any comments or suggestions. I'll work on another chapter and try to have one up soon.


	6. Bingo

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all my reviewers! I appreciate your feedback so much more than you know!

**Previous Chapter: **Dallas found Annabelle snorting coke at Buck's and brought her back to the Curtis's where her dangerous lifestyle was revealed to the gang; she stormed out after getting in a blow-out with Two-Bit.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from Things I'll Never Say by Avril Lavine.

* * *

_"yes, I'm wishing this life away / with these things i'll never say"_

The cool air whipped against my cheeks and with each step that took me farther from the Curtis', my façade lost a little of its strength. By the time I realized where my feet were taking me, my face held none of the spite it had.

Sinking onto the fountain's ledge, my eyes couldn't tear away from the little rust-colored stain that was still present on the concrete.

"Damn it, why'd you have to die, Johnny?" I screamed at the sky, leaning my head back so I was staring up at the stars, tears falling freely from my eyes. "It ain't right…" I whispered.

Sinking down to the ground, I pulled my legs up to my chest and buried my face in my knees. My hair fell in a curtain around me, and I wept softly.

It wasn't 'til an hour later at least that I raised my head again, wiping the wetness from my cheeks. Night had left and I was sure it was the early hours of the morning, but I couldn't move. It was chilly and I was shivering, but I wasn't ready to get up.

I leaned my head back against the fountain ledge, wincing a little when it met the concrete harder than I'd expected. I turned my head so my cheek rested against that cold surface, and I stayed like that, just letting my mind run and the tears dry.

Sometimes, I just wish things were different. Maybe back to before Dad left, back when Two-Bit and I could actually stand each other and back when I didn't even know what dope an' coke were.

But I couldn't change what had happened or who I had become. So finally, I got to my feet, slowly, and rubbed my arms against the chilly air. The hairs were standing up, goosebumps littering my skin.

"Annabelle?" I turned sharply to the voice, caught by surprise, and found Ponyboy Curtis walking my way, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a jacket pulled around him.

He stepped closer to me, sitting down on the fountain ledge just as I had an hour ago. He gestured for me to join him, but I only stared at him for a second, and then started to walk away, down the street toward my house.

"Annabelle!" He jogged to catch up with me, an' I kept my eyes straight ahead. My guard was down and I wasn't strong enough to deal with him right then. I was afraid that if I did, I'd do somethin' stupid, like tell him the truth. "Come on, just talk to me!"

I kept walking, speeding up a little, and he sped up with me. "Two-Bit's just about worried outta his mind back there, you know."

"Then why ain't he the one to chase after me, instead of you?" I asked, turning to meet his gaze for a single second before resuming my walk.

That shut him up good for a minute, but then he started up again. "He ain't a bad guy, and you oughta give him a break. He wanted to come, but he was so damn worked up he could barely think straight. He's convinced you hate him," Pony said, trying to get me to feel guilty with the accusing edge to his tone.

"Bingo."

He gaped at me, reaching out his hand to stop my pace. "You don't mean that, Annabelle."

My eyes narrowed angrily and I stepped closer. "Don't you tell me what I mean, Ponyboy Michael Curtis. You don't know shit about me," I growled.

"I know a hell of a lot more than any of the other guys back there!" He was finally losing his temper, and he ran a hand through his greasy hair, shooting me a frustrated glance. So the truth was finally coming out, all those rumors he'd heard about me.

By now we were just a little bit in front of the Curtis' house, but I barely noticed, too caught up in my argument with Pony.

"What, Ponyboy, what do you know about me?" My tone was patronizing, and I couldn't help but feel the kid was naïve. No one else would think so, not after those weeks surrounding Windrixville, but here, standing in front of me like he had never met me before, it seemed like he was too damn disdainful to be living in my world.

"I know that you're easy to bed, and the person to go to if I wanna get doped up! I know that you ain't no innocent, that's for sure, an' I know that you get trashed more than your brother!"

He was staring at me like I was disgusting, and I almost wished I could sink into the ground. But then my defiance flared, and I held my chin up higher. "Sorry I ain't your perfect little doll, Pony. Guess what? I ain't no Cherry Valance. Maybe you won't look down on me so bad when you figure out that she don't give a shit about you!"

Anyone who cared to look knew that Ponyboy had thought he was in love with Cherry. Of course, that had been a year ago at least, but logic didn't exist in the state of mind I was in. She was the most obnoxious girl I'd ever met, but try tellin' him that. She always tried to play the victim; poor little Cherry, her boyfriend got knifed. It was his own damn fault, and she didn't seem to realize us North side kids dealt with that kinda shit all the time. It ain't no fucking picnic, that's for sure.

Pony glared at me with all the passion of the sun for a second, and then he shut his eyes and waited a few seconds before opening them again. By then, they were closed off, still angry but less fierce.

"Talk to your brother."

And he shoved past me back to his house, shaking his head a little, like he was so much more mature than I was. _Fuck him_, I thought.

I nearly groaned when I saw the bundle of people watching from the porch, but then I figured the only new thing they'd discovered was the drinking. And maybe the sex. None of their damn business anyway.

I stalked back to my house, and stormed in. No one was home, of course. Two-Bit was still at the Curtis' and my mom was at work.

It was a shitty ending to a shitty day, and I wanted nothing more than to fall into a deep slumber and forget any of it had happened. So I slipped off my clothes, dropping them on the ground, and slid onto my creaking old bed, pulling the covers up to my chin.

If I closed my eyes and concentrated real hard, I could almost believe that I was dreaming my entire life, an' my dad ain't gone and my mom ain't a barmaid and my brother actually cares about me and I ain't a failure. So I kept my eyes screwed shut tight until I finally drifted to sleep an hour later.


	7. Don't lie to me

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the wait, I kinda veered in a new direction near the end. Let me know what you think, I'm a bit worried about it...

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle had a loud confrontation with Ponyboy in the street in front of the Curtis' house.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from Austin, We Have A Problem by Fallout Boy

* * *

_"i'm not ready for sincerity"_

The next morning, I woke up to a relentless knocking on the front door. With a groan, I pulled the pillow over my head and tried to block it out, or ignore it long enough that someone else'd get up to get it. After ten minutes, I finally succeeded and Two-Bit stumbled to the door.

It squeaked as he pulled it open, and I heard him stumble a bit as he lost his footing and fell against the wall. He's a real klutz in the mornin', and I could see him perfectly in my mind—eyes open only a slit, hair in all directions, clad in his rumpled jeans and hands scratching his chest.

"Hey, Two-Bit. Annabelle here?" Angie's voice floated in the door, carefree as always. She don't give a shit if she woke up the whole damn house.

I could almost hear the glare he gave her as he snapped, "how the hell should I know?" Glory, he was still mad about the night before. I guess I shoulda figured he would be. The kid can hold grudges when he damn well wants to.

But Angela, never one to get her feathers ruffled when someone yells at her, only said, "Well, shit, Two-Bit, she _is_ your sister. I just figured you might know if she was in the same fucking house." Her voice was easy, even if the words were harsh.

"No, she ain't my sister," he mumbled as he walked off back to his room and slammed the door behind him. Now those words hurt, even if I'd never let anyone know it. He didn't have to be such a damn bastard all the time. But I shrugged it off pretty quick. I was still pissed at him too.

I let my eyes droop a little, hoping that Angela'd get the hint and leave.

Of course she didn't, and I felt her drop down onto the foot of my bed a minute later. "Glory, Annabelle, get up! The early bird gets the worm and all that shit."

I took the pillow off and sat up a little, glaring at her. "That don't even make any sense," I muttered, giving in as I realized she wasn't gonna leave me alone 'til I was awake.

She grinned widely and tossed me a skirt and tank top to dress in, and I pulled 'em on with a yawn. "What the fuck are you doin' over here?"

Shrugging, her smile faded a little. "Curly was out, and Tim had to leave so he dropped me off here." I could hear the unspoken words that lingered in the air, that her brother hadn't wanted to leave her alone with her stepdad, an' I winced a little.

"What's with your brother?" She asked, her voice returning to its easy tone.

"How the fuck should I know?" I snapped, frowning angrily. I turned to the dingy little mirror that hung on the back of my door and brushed the tangles out of my hair with a grimace.

She chuckled heartily, "Glory, it musta been some fight if you're both so pissed off."

I sighed as the anger I'd felt a second ago faded. It wasn't her fault Two-Bit was a jackass, or that I had been stupid enough to let Dally find me sniffing.

"Two-Bit knows," I said, simply, watching her blurry outline out of the corner of my eye.

"Knows what?"

"Everything."

It took her a few seconds, but she finally got it, and she inhaled sharply. "You mean the drugs?" She was whispering, aware of the painfully thin walls in our house.

"And the drinkin' and the sleepin' around."

"Shit. He musta damn near killed you."

I shrugged. "He don't care that much, Angie."

I turned away from the mirror and tossed the brush onto my unmade bed, only looking at her when I realized she was staring at me. "What?" I snapped, irritable.

She finally tore her eyes away and shrugged, standing. "Let's go get some food. I told Tim he could pick me up at the Dingo in an hour."

I nodded briskly and strode to the front door, yanking it open and walking down the sidewalk toward the Dingo. Angie hurried after me, and we walked in silence for a good ten minutes.

By then I was shivering, wrapping my arms around my waist in an attempt to warm myself. The air had a cold bite to it and the clouds covered the sun, and in my short little skirt and summer shirt, I wasn't getting much warmth.

Without a word, Angie slid off the leather coat she'd been wearing and tossed it to me. She had on a thicker sweater, which was the only reason I let her give it to me. It was Tim's, I realized when I slipped it on.

The scent gave it away—musty cigarettes, a spicy aftershave, and somethin' that smelled like rain. It hung down to my knees, and the arms went on a good half a foot after my hands, but it was warm, and it comforted me, in a weird way.

Once we got to the Dingo, we slid into the corner booth that we always take and waited impatiently for the waitress to quit flirting with a coupla guys a few tables over and come take our order.

When she finally did turn away, giggling and pushing a strand of her bleached blonde hair behind her ear, she walked over to us, swaying her hips to the pleasure of the boys she was leaving behind. "What c'n I get y'all?" The smile could still be heard in her voice, and I rolled my eyes impatiently.

"I want a strawberry milkshake and a large order of fries."

Angie turned to look at me. "Real healthy there, Ann. And ain't it about fifty degrees outside? You're gonna get a milkshake?"

I just shrugged and ignored her. It probably wasn't smart, but I was damn hungry for it.

Angie gave the waitress her order, talkin' real slow like the lady wouldn't understand otherwise, and then she waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. She can be a real bitch when she wants to.

I waited for the food alone, silent in my thoughts, cause Angie had flounced off to the table of guys to flirt a little.

The waitress brought our food out but by then Angela was so caught up in talkin' to some boy from Brumly's outfit that she didn't notice. I tried snapping my fingers and getting her attention, but she just waved her hand at me and ignored me.

So with a shrug, I started to eat my own fries. The door to the place swung open with a _ding_ of the bell, but I paid it no mind. It wasn't 'til Tim slid into the booth beside me that I noticed him.

He stole a few of Angela's fries and shook his head a little at her. "How've you been, Annabelle?" His deep voice, throaty and rich, nearly made me shiver, and I couldn't figure out why. I just chalked it up to the milkshake and shook it off.

I shrugged, and that was when I noticed with a deep blush that I was wearin' Tim's coat still. He seemed to see that at the same time, and he let his eyes rest on it and how it nearly swallowed me whole.

But then after a minute, he turned away abruptly and I saw his Adam's Apple bob as he swallowed heavily.

"Angie lent it to me cause I was cold," I said by way of explaining, but Tim just shrugged.

"I don't mind."

We fell under an awkward silence for a few minutes, the only sound that of Angela's loud laughing from the other side of the diner, before he spoke up.

"You left the party pretty early. You get home okay?"

I did a half-nod, half-shrug and looked away, but Tim wasn't gonna let me off that easy. "What happened?"

"Nothin' important."

"Don't lie to me," he said, frowning.

"Don't tell me what to do," I snapped back, getting just as angry as he was.

With a scowl, he shook his head and turned away, and I returned to my fries. When I finished, I stood up and pulled out a wad of a couple dollar bills, setting them on the table to cover my food. I slipped Tim's jacket off and dropped it on the booth beside him.

"Angie!" I called, and she turned to me for half a second, just long enough for me wave good-bye to her, and then I stepped out the door and started walking home, ignoring the way Tim had watched me leave, his eyes flashing in annoyance.


	8. I ain't her right now

**Author's Note: **This takes place about a week after the last chapter, just so you know. And I'll explain what "angel dust" is at the end.

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle went to the Dingo with Angela and had a brief run-in with Tim.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls.

* * *

_"when everything feels like the movies / yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive"_

I held the knife in my hand, gently running my finger along the edge. It was sharp, and I accidentally nicked myself, but my eyes simply watched the red blood trickle from the cut. There was no reaction in them, and I didn't feel the pain.

I don't think I was as much depressed as I was curious. How would people react if I died?

Angela'd be upset, surely. She'd probably cry. My mom would be devastated, if not for my death then because it would be undeniable how screwed up I really was. She's a lot like Two-Bit in that way, she don't want to admit anything's wrong.

Two-Bit… I couldn't guess how he'd react. One side of me wanted to believe he'd care, but the other was sure I wasn't that important to him.

That alone, the curiosity over what Two-Bit would feel, was almost enough to make me do it, just slit my throat right there in my empty house. Almost, but not quite. At that point I was sure I wasn't exactly headed to heaven, so I wasn't quite ready to condemn myself to eternal misery 'til I had to.

I twisted my wrist a little, watching the light gleam off the smooth steel, completely absorbed in playing with the blade.

Did Bob have time to wonder what his parents would feel about his death, I wondered, and then shook my head angrily.

It had been two years since I'd thought about that bastard, and even then just for a second. The better question was 'had Johnny known how much everyone would miss him?'

Johnny's death had been a tragedy, a hero died too young, but Bob's… as far as I was concerned, his was a blessing. Of course, mine would be too, surely.

The door behind me opened, and I jumped, turning around with a guilty look plastered on my face to see who stood there.

Two-Bit was gaping in shock, staring at the steel blade in my hand and the trickle of blood on my skin. Damn, this looked bad for me.

"Annabelle…" His voice was horrified, and he still hadn't moved from the doorway. For a second, I thought, 'why does he care? He hasn't talked to me in a week at least.'

"I-I can explain…" I trailed off as I shut my eyes tight against the suddenly spinning room, and only opened them again a few minutes later when I had my balance back.

Seeming to snap out of his stupor, Two-Bit was by my side in two quick strides. Keeping his eyes on mine and moving slowly, as if he were afraid of what I would do, he gently pried the blade from my fingers.

The second he had it free, he flipped it closed and slipped it into his back pocket. Then he walked quickly to the kitchen and found a napkin, wiping the red from my hand and holding it to the cut, refusing to meet my gaze.

All of this I watched with a dumb detachment, not a hint of any emotion other than curiosity in my body. After he cleaned me up, Two-Bit glanced at the clock and then back to me, thinking, apparently.

"Come on," he said, standing, tugging me up by my arm.

"Where're you goin'?" I asked, still disoriented.

"I'm goin' to the Curtis', and you're comin' with me."

"Why?"

He didn't answer, only gave me a look that told me exactly why. He was afraid to leave me alone, but also afraid to _be_ alone with me, so it was off to the Curtis'.

In the car on the way over, I watched the scenery fly by without a word, and I felt Two-Bit look over at me several times. A coupla times he opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it again, and I didn't even spare him a glance.

Once we stopped, I followed Two-Bit up the porch steps, tripping a little on the bottom one and just barely managing to get myself righted again, with his help.

Two-Bit gestured for me to go inside before him, which I did with a simple shrug. The living room was loud before I entered, Steve and Soda yelling about some poker game Soda'd been caught cheating at, but it went quiet when I walked in.

Darry gave me a nod of hello, but my eyes just flickered in recognition. I felt like I was watchin' all this happen like it was a movie.

_That girl_, I thought in my head of myself, _has got some serious problems she needs to work out_.

By the time I snapped back to reality, I was sittin' on the carpet against the wall and Two-Bit was off in the kitchen with the group, talking in hushed voices. He was tellin' them about how he'd found me, no doubt.

I looked around the empty room, and saw only a tanned boy with a dark scar on his cheek puffing on a cigarette over in the corner. Johnny, I realized, and lifted my hand to wave hello to my old friend.

_But wait. _I blinked and he was gone. Shaking my head, I tried to get myself back together. I knew I shouldn't have dipped my joint in that angel dust earlier…

"Annabelle," Darry's voice was stern, but gentle, and he was suddenly standing before me. When had he got there?

I reached my hand out to touch him, just to make sure I wasn't makin' him up in my mind, but he was there all right, and he looked at me kinda funny. But then realization seemed to dawn, and he leaned down to me, looking closer. Grabbing my chin in his rough hand, he held my eyelid open with the other. "Shit."

I tried to swat his arm away, but I didn't even come close to hitting it. He dropped his hands anyway though and stood back up, turning away from me and talking like I wasn't right there.

"She's stoned, I think," Darry said, and I laughed a little, but the sound seemed far away and no one else even acknowledged it.

I wanted to tell them that they were wrong, or at least not fully right, but when I opened my mouth, Dallas spoke instead. "That ain't your average joint, man."

It was kinda warm in that room, and I wondered briefly why it was so hot when it was chilly outside...

"What the fuck is it then?" Two-Bit asked, and his voice seemed alarmed.

Dally shrugged, and Soda was just watching me like he was afraid I might break or somethin'. Steve was grinding his teeth, naming off different drugs I could be on, Pony was staring at me in concern, and Johnny was frowning at me.

I glanced away and then back at that corner, but he was still there, lookin' at me like I was beyond reform. "Don't you judge me, Jonathon," I told him sternly, angrily.

At my words, all the guys looked at each other in alarm, but I didn't notice. I was busy staring down my old buddy.

Wait, my _dead_ buddy, I realized with a quick shake of my head.

Two-Bit walked to the auburn haired girl—me, I realized with some amount of dismay, I was watchin' from outside myself—and kneeled in front of her, staring into her eyes sternly, "Annabelle, what did you take? What are you on?"

"I said I don't like bein' called that," she snapped, and I got a good look at her. She looked terrible, like a complete mess, her hair mussed and her face drawn.

"Fine, Anna or Ann or whatever the hell you wanna be called, what did you take?"

She brought her eyes up to meet his, and he fell back a little—they were almost glazed over, like she was seeing right through him. "You didn't wanna talk to me yesterday or the day before or the day before that, so you don't get to talk to me now."

The boy stood up in frustration, walking back to Darry and meeting his gaze with an exasperated look, but then Ponyboy, the reddish haired kid that had been staying out of it before then, stepped up. "Let me try," he whispered softly to the guys, and after a minute, Darry nodded his approval, ushering the rest of them back to the kitchen to give them some privacy.

When everyone was gone, he sat beside me—good, I was back to bein' myself—and turned to face me. "You don't know how scared you've got everyone."

"Or maybe I don't care," I said harshly, but Pony shook his head.

"Naw, you care. You just wanna act like you don't."

_Damn, can't they open a window or somethin'? _I thought.

We sat in silence and some of the guys wandered back in, tryin' to act casual. Pony was playing with his fingers and I was trying to ignore Johnny. He was sittin' beside me now, puffing away at his cigarette. I swear I smelled some smoke from his weed, cause I waved my hand in front of me and turned to my right, to Johnny. "Do you have to do that right next to me? I ain't in the mood now." Johnny shrugged and stubbed it out, and I turned so I was facing forward again.

Ponyboy was staring at me though, and he scooted in front of me. "Annabelle, you have to tell me what you took. Please."

I shrugged, "Nothin' too bad. Jus' a joint."

"A weed don't make you see shit," Dally put his two cents in, watching me shrewdly.

"He's right beside me!"

"No he ain't; Johnny is **_dead_**," Steve barked out, his voice as harsh as ever. I shot him a good glare.

"Look, Annabelle, you're seeing things. You're having hallucinations. A simple weed won't make you do that…"

"Naw, that's the dust," I said easily, as if I were tellin' 'em that I'd had a bottle of Pepsi earlier.

_Why is it so damn hot?_

Dally's eyebrows shot up a little, and Pony's jaw dropped a bit. Darry just turned and walked to the phone, dialing a number.

"How long does it take to wear off?" Pony asked me, but I wasn't listenin' to him. I was picking up on Darry's phone conversation.

"… Tim … sister there? … Somethin's wrong … worried … figured Angela … better than anyone else… see you … minutes." Darry walked back in, running a hand through his hair.

I just sat, and everyone was quiet for several minutes, fiddling with whatever they had in their hands, as we waited, for what I wasn't sure. But then a car motor cut off and I heard footsteps on the walkway, and Darry went to grab the door.

Just as the knock sounded, I felt my vision start to blur like it did when I went outta my body. I'm not sure why, but for some reason I instinctively grabbed for Pony's hand and squeezed it tightly, "I'm leavin' again, Pony…" My eyes were screwed shut and I was probably cuttin' off the circulation in Pony's hand, but he just grabbed onto me roughly.

"What? Annabelle, what do you mean?"

"I ain't her right now," the girl stuttered out, her eyes glazing over a little again. Noises from the hall turned everyone's attention to there, everyone except the redhead girl, that is, who just kept staring stupidly at the floor.

"Ann," a new girl that had just entered barked out, finally grabbing the other's attention. Angela's hair was dark, black, and wavy, falling down around her shoulders and framing her black eyes, which were at the moment piercing the girl.

Judging from how the girl looked at Angela, she turned around and faced Darry, Two-Bit and her brother. "Mary Jane, for sure, and ozone probably. I heard someone say something about using some earlier."

"What does that mean?" Two-Bit asked desperately. He might be an alcoholic, but he was no druggie.

"It means she's got both pot an' a hallucinogen runnin' through her blood," Tim cut in, his rough voice catching the girl's attention. She looked up at him and in her eyes I saw some kinda emotion, but I wasn't sure what.

"Oh God," Two-Bit muttered, putting his face in his hands.

"Glory you guys, she's gonna be fine. Y'all are actin' like she's gonna drop dead from a little dust. She's gonna keep seein' shit, and then in a little bit she'll get kinda feverish and shiver a little, then she'll fall in and out of sleep until the mornin', when she'll be fine. Don't flip out or nothin'." Angela rolled her eyes, smacking hard on her gum.

The guys turned to look at her, and Tim asked only, "How do you know all that?" There was a stern edge to his voice, but she barely cared.

"I ain't no innocent, Tim, an' you know it."

I felt myself start to fall back into my skin, and the warmth of Pony's hand, which was still clutched in mine, crept back in. In fact, my whole body was warm. Hell, not even warm, hot. Nobody noticed me though, too wrapped up in what was goin' on with Tim and Angela.

In one second, Tim's hand was gripping the top of her arm, his face close to hers in anger. "You sayin' you've done that shit?" he growled.

The heat was startin' to piss me off.

"No, I ain't. God, Tim, let go of me." He did, and she glared at him, rubbing her arm where he had held it, "I sat with her last time she did it," Angela said casually.

I tugged at the hem of my shirt and pulled it up over my head, my body flaming hot. Pony blushed deeply and looked away to Darry, his eyes helpless, and Darry snapped, "Put your shirt on, Annabelle."

Two-Bit just groaned and put his head back in his hands as the rest of the guys looked away. All but Tim, who stared dumbly at my lacy black bra for a good minute before he turned away.

I shook my head, "it's hot." A shiver ran through me as Angela strode over and laid a sheet over my body. I turned to lay my head on Pony's shoulder in exhaustion, shutting my eyes against Johnny's face.

I didn't wanna see him right then.

* * *

Okay, "angel dust" is the same thing as "ozone" and "dust". They're slang terms for PCP, which is a hallucinogen that can be snorted or, in Annabelle's case, dipped onto the end of a joint and smoked. Some of the effects are hallucinating (obviously), a feeling of detachment or disorientation, inability to feel physical pain, loss of coordination, a blank stare, elevated body temperature, blurred vision, loss of balance, dizziness, short temper, and fear. Also, I think this might be why it's called "angel dust" in the first place, another symptom is having out of body experiences, hence the third person POV in parts of this. There are more, but those are the main ones. And no, I'm not a druggie, I just googled all that stuff, lol.


	9. You know I don't think that

**Author's Note: **Another chapter so soon? It can't be! But it is, so enjoy!

**Previous chapter: **Two-Bit caught Annabelle playing with a blade while she was on PCP and took her back to the Curtis'. The gang was worried because of her constant hallucinations of Ponyboy so they called the Shepards.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from Given The Chance by The Starting Line.

* * *

_"what this means to me is more than it may seem"_

I woke up the next mornin' in a bed not my own. My first instinct was to check and see if my bra and underwear were still on, but they were. It was only then that I blinked and realized it wasn't some random guy's bed. It was Ponyboy's.

And that was when everything came back to me, the drugs and the knife and my brother. I could hear voices in the next room, and I could pick some out as Two-Bit, Darry, Tim an' Ponyboy. That wasn't gonna be a fun reception, and I wasn't lookin' to walk straight into a battle zone.

So I stood slowly up from the bed, wincing as it creaked. But no one from the next room came in; Angela, however, raised her head from Soda's pillow. "Ann, you're up."

I held a finger to my lips to tell her to shut the fuck up, and whispered, "I'm getting outta here."

"I dunno if that's such a hot idea. Maybe you oughta stick around, just listen to 'em…"

My face stiffened and I glared at her. What, she was suddenly gonna turn on me now? Bitch. "I didn't ask what you thought, did I?" I said icily, and I think she actually flinched a little at my tone.

I didn't wait for a reply though, grabbing my shoes in my hands and dropping them out the window. Then I pushed myself up on the ledge and hopped out, picking them up as I ran swiftly away from that house.

I didn't stop running 'til I got to my own home. "Annabelle? Is that you?" My mom called from the kitchen, and I just yelled back a short "yeah" and went straight to my room, shutting the door firmly behind me.

She musta got the hint 'cause she didn't bug me. Sinking down onto my own bed, I buried my face into my pillow, breathing in that clean linen scent deeply. It seemed like everything was spinning outta control and I wasn't sure how to stop it. If Two-Bit didn't have such damn nosy friends I'd be fine, but I had a feeling they weren't gonna leave me alone now.

It ain't like I need their help; I'd made it sixteen years on my own, an' I wasn't gonna fall apart if no one's there now.

I musta drifted asleep for a little bit, 'cause I woke up a few hours later to my front door creaking open. I glanced out the front window and didn't see my mom's car, so I tensed. What kind of a stupid burglar would break into this piece of shit?

I swung my legs off the side of my bed and walked cautiously to the door, grabbin' a baseball bat on my way out. Gripping it tightly, I crept into the living room and swung it as hard as I could at the intruder's back, letting out a war shriek as I did.

"Shit, Annabelle!" Tim ducked wildly and twirled to face me, his eyes wide. "Put that damn thing down!"

My heart was pounding, though not as hard as his, surely, and I dropped it to the floor with a thud. "You scared the shit outta me, Shepard," I snapped.

"Yeah, kinda like you did us last night? Or this mornin'?" His eyes were lookin' straight into mine, and I met his gaze with a defiant flare.

"That ain't any of your business."

He sighed in frustration, "Yes it is, damn it!"

My eyes narrowed angrily, but instead of yellin' at him good like I wanted to, I just turned and stalked back to my room, flinging the door shut behind me. Before it could close though, Tim stepped up, putting his arm out, sending it flying back against the wall with a bang.

"Get out!" I screamed, but he only stood in that doorway, watching me with his shrewd eyes. A million emotions flickered through them and I tried to identify any, but I couldn't.

"You have to stop this. You're killin' yourself, Annabelle."

"No I ain't. I'm havin' fun."

He took another step into the room. "If you ain't gonna stop doin' that shit, then I don't want you hangin' around Angela anymore. She's got enough problems of her own to deal with, and I don't want you addin' to 'em." He said it like a threat, and though I'd never let them fall, a few tears rushed at my eyes.

"Now your sister is too good to be hangin' out with trash like me? Is that what you're sayin', Tim?" I asked, my voice harsh.

"You know I don't think that." His face, his tone, his body was calm, but mine were flaming with passion and anger.

"Maybe I don't know as much as you think I do."

"Or maybe you know more than you wanna admit," he shot back, just as quick.

I don't know how we switched topics so quickly, but we wasn't talkin' about Angela or me anymore, and we both knew it.

Tim walked closer to me, his eyes darker than I'd ever seen 'em, and he reached his hand out to brush the wild hair from my face. His fingers accidentally, or maybe purposefully, touched my cheek and I shivered, feeling my skin alight with fire. I wasn't angry no more, I was weak. Weak with desire, and I only know one way to get my strength back and that's to give my body what it wants. Otherwise I knew I'd fall to pieces every time Tim touches me.

Turnin' my face to catch his hand, I kissed the back of his palm, my eyes never leaving his. And then his lips were on mine, sucking away my breath with their rough passion. He had his hands gripping my waist tightly and he pulled me closer to him, as close as I could get. I gasped a little as his tongue slipped along my collarbone, and I felt him smirk.

Surely, this was wrong, I thought briefly as he sucked furiously at my skin. He was older than me, but age had never stopped me before. He was Angie's brother, but she never had to know, if we were even still friends. He was the most untamable boy in Tulsa, but I didn't want him to be all mine, I told myself. I just wanted his body, his sex, just like that was all he wanted from me.

So I made up my mind, taking us farther than he had been pushing for by yanking at the button on his jeans.

We were both naked in a matter of seconds, and he was as rough and violent a lover as he was a person. He left bruises on my skin and love bites on my chest, but I gave him a good hickey or two as well.

He fell straight asleep afterward, and I just laid against his chest, my eyes open, listening to the gentle whoosh of his breathing.


	10. I've got somethin' I need to tell you

**Author's Note: **So check out the twist in the second half of this chapter. Shocked me when I wrote it, for sure. Of course, maybe it isn't as shocking as I thought it was, in which case you all will simply be staring at the chapter, wondering what I thought was so interesting. If that should happen, ignore this.

Anyway, I'm probably going to be going back through these chapters and fixing them with some edits and such. Nothing should be big enough that you would need to know what changes I'm making though, it's mostly just little things, but I thought I'd mention it because I'm not sure if you'll get an e-mail if you have this on story alert. So anyway, if your inbox gets clogged and keeps telling you that I'm adding new chapters when I'm not, well, sorry.

As for review replies, Marsonfire let me know that you're not actually supposed to reply in the chapter and people have been getting their stories taken down for doing so. So, to the fanfiction... uhh... people: Sorry, I'll stop. That means that I'll be replying to all the logged in users with the "review reply" option, and as for the anonymous ones, I'll just keep putting yours in the chapter (unless you have an objection to that) because I would feel awful not saying anything back. So that's what's going on there.

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle sneaked out of the Curtis house and returned to her own, where Tim showed up a few hours later. A lot of emotions and previously undiscovered feelings came out.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from Slip Out The Back by Fort Minor.

* * *

Itsallaboutme: Thank you, I'm glad you liked it. And yes, it was a bit of a different direction. But I'm having fun writing it, so oh well. And no, there shouldn't be any problem with giving Anna a scene or two in your story. Thank you for the review!

* * *

_"forget perfect / i'm just trying not to be worthless" _

I musta laid there for a good two hours, wide awake, jus' lettin' Tim sleep beside me, before he woke up. He tightened his grip around my waist, kissing the back of my neck.

God, when did Shepard get a heart? When the hell had he started learnin' how to be a sweet guy?

_But he ain't_, I reminded myself, _he's just givin' you what you want so you'll keep givin' him what he wants._

He could tell my mind was other places, not in that bed with him, and he got it back real quick, turning me over so I was facing him and running his hand down my naked body. I moaned a little, and he smirked again, like a lazy tomcat.

But then I heard a car door slam from the street, and I leapt from bed real quick. "Shit!" I ran around my room in a panic, pulling on clothes so fast I didn't even pay attention to if they were on inside-out or not, and I turned to Tim when I had my bra on and was yanking on a shirt.

He was still lying in that bed, watching me with an amused twitch of his lips. "Get the fuck out of that damn bed! Do you _want_ my ma or Two-Bit to catch you there?" I'd never brought a boy to my house before; we'd always done the deed at Buck's or at his place or somewhere else, never in my own bed. Ole Timmy was the first, and I doubted anyone would be too happy about that.

I'd rather my mom walk in that front door 'cause at least she wouldn't beat Tim up, but I wasn't really lookin' for either option. I was really startin' to flip though as Tim lazily crawled out of bed and slooowly pulled on his jeans.

"Now you're just doin' that to piss me off!" I hissed, and he only grinned, leaning over and catching my breath in a kiss that sent my heart jumping into my throat. Damn, he was good at that.

But then the front door swung open and I shoved him away, taking a quick look in the mirror and yanking off my shirt to put it on forwards instead of backwards like it was with a muttered curse. Footsteps were walkin' toward my room, and from the heavy sound, it wasn't my mom.

Faster 'an a cat, I leapt to the door and opened it just a crack, enough for me to slip through and then slammed it shut behind me, finding myself face to face with my brother.

He gave me a nervous smile, like he wasn't sure what to say to me, but then he noticed my off-center shirt and, damn it, my unbuttoned jeans.

I watched him take it in, praying to whatever God there was that Tim had the sense to hide somewhere and wasn't just gonna lay on my bed and wait for a fight to come to him. Two-Bit wasn't gonna like knowing what I'd done anyway, but if he found out I'd done it with Tim Shepard, he'd be flat-out furious.

Pushing me aside, my brother opened the bedroom door and stalked inside, and I bit my pinky fingernail, stepping in after him and peering around his bulky frame to see what sight was awaiting him. But Tim wasn't on my bed, or under it, or in my closet, like Two-Bit checked for.

I about near died when I saw his white tee shirt lying in plain sight on my dresser, but Two-Bit didn't notice it. He was too busy staring out the open window that Tim musta escaped out of.

"Annabelle," he turned back to me with a stern tone, and I rolled my eyes. "Who was here?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," I said haughtily, flopping onto my unmade bed and letting Tim's scent surround me. Glory I wanted him all over again…

"Stop bullshitting me."

I turned over onto my side and closed my eyes, "Get out, Two-Bit," I said tiredly, wanting only to fall into a good dream until that night. I guess he complied or else I just tuned him out 'cause I fell straight to sleep.

* * *

When I woke up a few hours later, I stretched lazily and propped myself up against the wall, kicking my sheets down around my feet. It was a little muggy, and I rolled my eyes in annoyance. That's Oklahoma weather for ya, chilly one week and humid the next.

Last March, it had snowed in the middle of the month but then the sun came out and the next day, it was hot enough that people was wearin' shorts. I walked past the Curtis' and Darry was out washin' his truck, and there was a big ole patch of icy snow right next to him. I ain't even kidding.

Lightin' up a cigarette, I leaned back and held the smoke in before slowly letting it out the side of my mouth. I had learned all sorts of tricks, and could blow smoke rings an' even make it come out my nose like a dragon, if I tried hard enough.

But I didn't have any intentions of showing off right then. It was a Sunday night and I was feelin' content, for once in my life. And I wasn't even high or drunk either.

I heard a knock on my door and after a minute, I called out a lazy "s'open." Instead of Two-Bit like I thought it'd be, it was my mom.

"Put out that cigarette," she said, trying to be stern and failing miserably.

I just took another puff and looked at her, "Whadya need?"

To tell the truth, I kind of like my mom. She ain't on my case all the time and she lets me do like I want to. At least, after Dad left. Before he took off, we were all a pretty close family, and she always had to know where my brother and I were gonna be and with who. Ironic, since before he left she didn't need to keep an eye on me 'cause I was pretty much an angel of a daughter, but after he split was when I started screwing up.

I think after Dad left she just kinda fell apart, and then she didn't have time to look after me and Two-Bit 'cause she was too busy taking care of herself. I feel a little bad for her, 'cause I still hear her crying over that bastard sometimes. I think she really misses the guy, and probably still loves him.

"I made dinner."

At this I raised my eyebrow. My ma was cooking now? She used to like to get tips from Mrs. Curtis and she'd spend her time off over there cooking with her, but she was never any good. Mrs. Curtis even had to pat down a little fire with a couple rags once.

"Two-Bit said he had somethin' he wanted to talk to you an' me about, so I figured we'd have a family dinner." She smiled at me and then told me to be out there in five minutes, but I stayed frozen to my bed.

What the hell did Two-Bit want to talk about? If he was plannin' on telling my mom about me and all, maybe I oughta skip dinner. She's a tolerant person, but I ain't ready to see how far I can push her, and I'd bet that Two-Bit tellin' her that I do drugs and spent a few hours in my bed with a boy that day would be goin' a bit overboard.

I finally dragged myself up though, heart pounding, and put out my cigarette, tossing it out the window as I slid it shut. I made my way to the kitchen, tryin' to slink along as nonchalantly as I could, but I was scared silly.

When I got to the table, he and my ma were sitting down spooning out mashed potatoes that looked surprisingly edible. He refused to look at me for the first half of dinner, and only once it began to slow down did he open his mouth to talk. Staring at my mom and not sparing me a glance, he started.

"I've got somethin' I need to tell you." _Oh God, this is it... Can I deny it? Say that he's lying? _"An' I want you to just listen 'fore you start talkin', okay?" _Maybe I oughta pretend to pass out, just fall down on the ground right now. _

My mom nodded, looking grave, and he cleared his throat to start again. I shut my eyes, wincing a little in preparation for the bomb that I was sure'd blow up in my face with my brother's words.

"I think I'm gonna ask Kathy to marry me." It was dead silent for a few seconds.

_Oh Lord, she's too shocked to scream at me, or too disappointed or too mad—wait, what?_

"Oh, Keith, that's wonderful!" My mom clasped her hands together and she stood from the table to give my brother a tight hug. I took a look at his glowing face and sat back in my chair, stunned to the bone. I mean, shit, I'd known he and Kathy had been dating—they'd been on and off since he was my age—but marriage? My brother? The guy who had once actually taken three girls to the same dance and ran himself silly trying to make sure none of 'em found out about his other dates?

And _Kathy_? I mean, damn, how much more of a fucking bimbo can you get? She's blonde and wears candy pink lipstick and keeps her nails long—long enough to be classified weapons and believe me, I oughta know; I watched Two-Bit clean the blood off his face after she'd slapped him when she found him with another girl three years ago. She ain't anything special, that's for damn sure.

I watched my mom and brother smiling, happy, glowing, and I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling my bitchy side kick in like it always did. "What, she pregnant?"

My mom gave me "the look" as best as she could pull it off, "Stop talking like that, Annabelle, and congratulate your brother."

But I was too busy staring at Two-Bit, who looked down at the floor real quick after I said that—a little too quick, maybe. My jaw dropped open, "she is, isn't she? Shit, Two-Bit, great job." The sarcasm was dripping from my voice and he whipped his eyes up to meet mine with a furious glare.

"No, she ain't. She jus' thought she was for a little bit there, but she said she ain't. It just got me thinkin' about it and I really do wanna marry her," he had shifted his focus to my mom in the middle of what he was saying, and he was looking at her with that bashful smile that keeps everyone from getting mad at him. Everyone but me, anyway. I nearly threw up in my mouth a little.

Shoving my chair back, I stood and stalked straight past my family to my room, closing the door firmly and falling on top of my bed covers, thoughts of my brother clogging my mind.

So he wanted to get hitched, did I really give a fuck? No. Of course I didn't. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. In fact, this'd be even better cause once he's tied down with Kathy he'll be too busy to get on my case. He'll leave me completely alone, finally. It'll be like he was never my brother. He won't give a shit what I do.

Which is a good thing, damn it. I wiped the single tear from my cheek with an angry shake of my head.

I didn't know why I was misting up—I was happy that I'd finally be rid of him.


	11. Yeah, well, you ain't

**Author's Note:** In a bit of a rush, so sorry if this has any mistakes... And did you check out all the previous chapters? I made them all pretty! Hehe.

**Previous chapter:** Two-Bit nearly caught Tim and Annabelle together; Two-Bit announced that he is considering proposing to Kathy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from I Slept With Someone In Fallout Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me by Fallout Boy.

* * *

Itsallaboutme: Thank you for the review! And I'm not sure just why we're not "allowed" to. For privacy, maybe? I don't know. Thanks for always reviewing though! I really, really appreciate it!

* * *

_"and i'm sorry, my conscience called in sick today"_

Angie showed up at my house Monday morning before school, like she always had before. She had been drivin' me to school since she'd got a set of wheels—a tuff little '65 T-Bird that Tim got for her a few months back, though he never told her where he got it from. If I didn't know better I'd say he stole it, but Tim Shepard would never let his sister drive a hot car.

For a second, I paused at my window, watching her hop out and sashay up the driveway to my front door, walkin' in without knocking like she did every morning. She looked just like normal.

She plopped onto my bed—_Oh God, _I thought with a rush of blood, _the same bed that her brother had fucked me in not even two days ago._ I bit my lip sharply and turned my attention back to my mascara wand. She didn't need to know about that.

"Ohhh," she groaned, rolling onto her side so she could meet my eyes in the mirror. "I don't wanna go to my first period."

I shrugged, "do you ever?"

She didn't say anything back to that and a minute later, I put my mascara back onto the dresser and then turned away from the mirror, grabbing my books and heading to her car, Angie bouncing along behind me.

"Get outta the way, bastard!" Angela laid on her horn and flicked her middle finger out the window at the driver that had decided to slam on his brakes in front of her in retaliation for her tailgating. I just set my head on my fist and hoped that we'd get to school in one piece.

A hair-graying ten minutes later, she skidded into the parking lot and squealed to a stop, fluffing her hair up with her fingers and hopping out of the car. "What's eatin' you, Ann?" she asked, glancing over at me as we walked into the school.

I shrugged, "Whadya mean?"

"You're quieter 'an death, an' you're never that quiet. Unless somethin' happened…" she let her voice trail off and then she sneaked another look at me outta the corner of her eye. I just lifted my shoulder again, keeping silent.

"Glory, you ain't still pissed at me about Saturday morning, are you?"

The first thing that shot into my mind when she said "Saturday morning" was Tim, but then I thought back to before that, to me snapping at her at the Curtis'.

I wasn't really holdin' a grudge against her for turnin' on me, but I was still thinking about Two-Bit and Kathy…

"Naw, I was jus' thinkin'."

She left it alone after that, though I could tell she didn't want to. I figured that for all I knew, Two-Bit'd chicken out and decide not to propose, so there was no need to go spreadin' it around when it ain't even happened yet. And tellin' Angela Shepard is a surefire way to get the news to everyone, an' I imagine Kathy'd be pretty pissed at Two-Bit if she was the last to know about her own engagement… which was nearly reason enough for me to open my mouth and blab it. But I didn't.

Angie didn't bug me though. That girl knows me better than anyone else, and she knows when I just wanna be left alone.

Unfortunately, not everyone would let me be.

"Miss Mathews, I suggest you open your book and read the first paragraph like I asked you to ten minutes ago." My English teacher hissed, her eyes icy cold. The lady hated me, always had, and the feeling was mutual.

A lotta people "ooo"ed at her harsh tone, but I just stared at her, not even a flicker of recognition in my eyes. She could scream at me all she damn well wanted to, but it wasn't gonna work.

"Miss Mathews!"

"What?" I snapped, finally letting the anger flood into my eyes. I had been trying to just ignore her, but she wasn't gonna let me. So if she wanted a fight, well then I'd give her a damn good one.

"Open. Your. Textbook," she seethed.

Looking her right in the eyes, I said, slow and clear, "No."

"You're being purposely uncooperative, and I don't appreciate it."

"And you're being a bitch, and I don't appreciate that."

Her eyes widened, like she'd never heard a fucking curse word, and she grabbed me by my arm, pulling me to my feet as she walked me to the classroom door. In a fit of rage, I yanked my arm out of her grasp, "Get your filthy hands off of me, whore," I spat before walking through the door and slamming it behind me. The sound resonated down the hall and echoed off the walls, and I could hear total silence on the other side of the classroom door.

She was probably still debating what was more important to her—her job or attempting to beat the shit out of me. She either realized that she'd only get her own ass kicked or else she decided I wasn't worth the effort cause a minute later, I heard her start teaching again, her voice still stiff.

I leaned back against the wall with a sigh, feeling my muscles relax a little. Shit, I'd lost it before, but never with a teacher. Before, I'd always had an apathetic air toward school people, but right then… damn, I woulda slapped her in another minute.

I wound up just sitting in the hall for the rest of that class, and I stayed there through my next three hours, staring at the wall across from me and ignoring the people walking by during passing time. It was only when lunch came that I finally stood up, and then only because Angela found me sitting in the hall and hauled me to my feet.

We went out to Jay's for lunch, and Jeff saw me. He just smirked a little and winked at me, and I ignored him. I wasn't much in the mood for him.

All I wanted was to get through the damn week, which was lookin' less and less possible by the second, I realized as I caught sight of Tim out by the edge of the parking lot. He was talkin' with the leader of the Brumly gang, and he had his arm slung casually across some whore's shoulders.

Looking closer, I recognized the face of Julie Jackson, a greaser gal who sat beside me in history next period. I'd always liked her just fine before, but right at that moment, all I could think about was what a bitch she was. Tim turned his head to scan the rest of the lot and I dropped down to the floor of Angie's car with a muttered curse.

"So I just looked at her, ya know, an' told her, I said, 'you ain't but a filthy bitch an' if you wanna keep usin' that big mouth o' yours, I sugg—" Angela stopped mid-sentence and peered down at me.

"You doin' okay, Ann? I mean, I know you don't wanna talk, but you ain't actin' right…" She blew a loud bubble with her gum as she waited for my answer.

I was still hunched down on the littered floor of her car, and I kept my head down low, under the window. But Angie's got the attention span of a two-year-old and lifted her eyes from me to the parking lot, leaving my efforts in vain.

"Hey, there's Tim. Tim!" She yelled, snapping her fingers in the air and getting his attention. She stopped and leaned back against her car seat as he started walkin' over, hand in hand with Julie. "Who's that on his arm?" Angela asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

Angie don't like many of the girls Tim's with and she gets flat-out rude to a lot of 'em. She's jealous of havin' to share her brother's attention, but don't ever tell her that or she'll bite your damn head off, an' trust me, I'd know. I was afraid for my life after that had slipped outta my mouth when we was jus' joking around in her room.

With a defeated wince, I got myself up from the car floor and sat back in my seat, purposely not lookin' right at Tim. I watched him from the corner of my eye though, and he didn't even change expressions when he saw me, nor did he drop Julie's hand. Just goes to show me how important that time was to him.

"Hey Ang, Annabelle," he nodded his greetings, his face cool as ever, even as Julie put his arm around her and snuggled into his chest. His fingers brushed absentmindedly through her probably-fake blonde hair and I tried not to think about how I'd felt when he'd done the same thing to me.

There was an awkward silence and I couldn't take it, bein' there and seeing him with her, so I hastily climbed out of Angie's car and hurried inside, muttering that I had to use the bathroom.

I went straight back to the girls room and stood in front of that sink, splashing water on my face and then dryin' off with a paper towel. When I was done and I at least didn't feel so hot anymore, I stared in the mirror, yellin' at my reflection in my head.

_Tim ain't nothing to you. You're just pissed 'cause he's ignoring you; you don't give a Yankee's dime if he's fucking Julie. _The vile I had to choke down told me otherwise, but I ignored it. _Now you're gonna go back out there and show him that he means just as little to you as you do to him. _

With a determined nod, I masked my face and sauntered back outside, but by the time I got to Angie's car, Tim and Julie were nowhere to be seen.

I just got back in the T-Bird and shut the door maybe a little harder than I should've. But Angie ignored it, getting back into the story of her fight with Sylvia that she'd been tellin' me when I had seen Tim.

It wasn't 'til halfway through History that I saw Julie again.

"Did I miss anything important?" She asked me in a whisper as she slid into her seat behind the teacher's back. I turned to look at her and took in the slightly smudged lipstick, the happy gleam in her eyes, and the little hickey peeking above the wrinkled collar of her shirt. And without even meanin' to, I gave her a biting glare and turned back to the front, ignoring her bewildered look.

Once the teacher was done lecturing, he gave us the rest of the period to write our outlines and I turned to mine in silence. For once I was actually gonna do the work. Usually Julie and I'd sit and talk about our weekends and shit, but I wasn't in the mood to say a word to her right then.

She didn't seem to get that though, and she sighed happily. I ignored her, and she did it again, even louder, obviously wantin' me to ask her what was up.

Clenching my teeth, I turned to her after she sighed for the fourth time. "Okay, I'll bite, what's got you in such a good mood?" I was hopin' maybe she'd just got a good grade or somethin', as unlikely as that was, but the second she opened her mouth I knew that wasn't the case.

"Tim has just got this way of makin' me feel like I'm the only one, ya know?" From the stars in her eyes, I knew she was really swooning, and I was right there to bring her back down from cloud nine.

"Yeah, well, you ain't." I turned back to my homework without another word, but she just looked harder at me.

"How do you know that?" her tone was suspicious and I actually considered tellin' her the truth just to shut her up, but then I shook the thought from my head. There was no use diggin' myself into a hole.

"'Cause I know Tim."

She frowned and left me alone after that. I spent the rest of the period silently seething.


	12. I ain't a kid!

**Author's Note: **I've got a vague idea for the next chapter, so it shouldn't be too long for another update. This one is not my favorite, but oh well. You can't win them all, right? Actually, I don't think that really applies here, but whatever. I'm too tired to come up with anything better. Let me know what you think of it, or any suggestions you have for future events, please.

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle saw Tim and another girl, Julie, holding hands at Jay's and seemed to get a bit jealous...

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from Only One by Yellowcard.

* * *

Itsallaboutme: Hmm, I hadn't even thought of that. I don't know though, I really don't want to do the pregnancy thing again. I'm already working around it with Kay, so I'd rather not make Anna have to go through the same thing. But you are right about needing attention. Thank you for the review!

* * *

_"you can see right through me"_

It wasn't 'til Friday that I saw Tim again. I was at Bucks, surprise, surprise, an' Angie had already headed upstairs with her on-again, off-again boyfriend, James.

Two-Bit had been outta the house most of the week so I'd barely even seen him, but every time I did bump into him, he'd just give me a weird look and hurry outta the room.

I had been completely clean all week, too, which may've been why I was chugging beer down as quick as I could at Buck's. I'd only been there a half hour, but I already had a little buzz.

And then Tim walked in. This time, Julie wasn't hanging off his arm like a damn charm bracelet.

I drank and talked to Shelly, a girl I knew a little from school, and some guys that came over to flirt, but I kept a little bit of an eye on Tim, just to see what he was gonna do. At one point, this boy I'd been talkin' to—I forget his name—had leaned over and was whispering in my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin, and I giggled a little. His hands were against the wall behind me on either side of my head, and I guess we looked pretty close 'cause Tim glanced over and for just a second, I swear I saw a flash of jealousy or confusion or somethin'. But then he turned away again.

I felt a little bit of triumph at knowing that I'd upset him some too, just like he'd done to me when he was holdin' hands with Julie like that.

About halfway through the party, my buzz was getting a lot heavier but I hadn't dipped into any drugs yet, and I glanced over to see Tim nibbling on some bitch's ear over on the couch. They looked pretty close, and I nearly vomited right there in the middle of the living room. It was just dumb luck that I didn't, but I felt my face get hot and maybe start to sweat a little, and I wasn't even listening to Shelly anymore.

Without a word, I set my beer down on a table and pushed through the crowd to get upstairs to the bathroom, not even noticing that I'd caught Tim's eye.

There was hardly a line for the bathroom, thankfully, and I locked myself in, splashing water on my face and trying to start breathing again. I didn't know why I was getting so upset over seeing Tim with other girls. I'd never gotten mad when I'd seen him with 'em before, although I may've felt a little weird about it. And it wasn't like I flipped out on Jeff or nothin' when he made out with other chicks just 'cause he'd been with me the night before. Tim was nothin' special. I just had to convince my body of that and I'd be good.

Someone knocked on the door and I ignored it, but then they just knocked harder. "I'll be out in a minute!" I growled, breathing deeply to try an' calm myself down. I was getting seriously pissed.

And then they started banging harder. "What the _hell_ is your probl—" I started to snap as I yanked open the door, but I lost my voice the second I saw Tim's lean body standing in front of me. He pushed me back a few steps and walked into the bathroom too, shutting and locking the door behind him. I was still starin' at him a little, but when he turned back to me I had regained all of my fire.

"What do you think you're doing? Get out!" I hissed.

He wasn't listening, letting his eyes travel around the bathroom instead. He looked around on the counters and shit, probably to make sure I wasn't doin' drugs or nothin'.

"I mean it, Tim, get outta here 'fore I start screamin' bloody murder!" I was really laying into him, getting worked up and everything, but I shut up instantly when he whipped back around to me after about two straight minutes of my yellin' at him while he ignored me.

His eyes were blazing and I shrunk back a little under his gaze, not liking that hard expression. That was the Tim Shepard that was infamous on the streets, and I didn't like him one bit.

But then his eyes softened and he just lifted his hand, setting his fingers on my lips like he was shushing me. I was already dead silent though, and his hand traced my lips, igniting a fire within me that I tried my damndest to extinguish.

"Glory, Annabelle, jus' let me talk, will ya?" His voice was rough but quiet, barely above a whisper.

"Well then start talkin'," I couldn't help but snap, even as I knew it was stupid to provoke Tim. He didn't even seem to notice I'd talked though.

"You okay?" He asked after a few minutes of silently looking around and running his hand through his hair, like he wasn't sure what to say, while I watched him.

I just narrowed my eyes, "What's it to you?"

"Can't I just be worried?"

I snorted. "Worried, right. I could see how concerned about me you were when you were fucking all those other whores!"

"Hey," he barked, "watch your mouth, kid."

"Damn it, Tim; I ain't a kid!" I hissed, feeling myself grow angrier than I should at his words.

His eyes smoldered and he took a step closer to me, putting his hand in my hair and wrapping the red locks around his fist tightly, hurting my scalp but making it feel real good at the same time.

"Glory, don't you think I know that, Annabelle?"

His face was only a few inches from mine, his body already pressed up against my own, and I couldn't seem to smell anything but that spicy after-shave that still lingered in my bed sheets.

My mind was yellin' at myself to step away, to push him away, to just get outta there 'fore I did somethin' I'd regret later, but I told it to shut up, and let my lips close that last little distance, crashing into his with as much passion as was running through my body.

And then we were making out, right there in Buck's bathroom. I leaped a little and he caught me so that I had my legs wrapped around his waist and wasn't even touching the ground anymore, which seemed to fit since I hadn't been walkin' on land since he'd touched my lips minutes before.

He set me down on the counter and kissed my neck and collarbone as I ran my fingers through his hair, my legs still wrapped around his body and his arms holding me close to him.

I slipped his shirt over his head and we both stopped for a minute, silent as I ran my fingers over his chest. "Tim…" My voice seemed out-of-breath, but before I could say any more, we were interrupted by a heavy knock on the door.

"Ignore it," Tim murmured, sucking on my neck. And I did, but it came again after only a minute.

"Come on, open up in there! I'm gonna hurl on the floor!" A rough voice yelled, and Tim pulled away from me with his eyes flashing in annoyance.

"Damn it!" He snapped, glaring at the door and the line of people that were more than likely waiting just outside it.

I hopped from the counter and handed him his shirt again, feeling a little twinge of regret in my heart. I wanted Tim, and I wanted all of him right then and there.

He turned back to me, taking my hand in his. "We'll go to my place," he declared, not thinking that maybe I had changed my mind. But I hadn't though, so I nodded and he opened the door, walking out with me right behind him.

A few guys that were waitin' in the hall whooped and hollered, or catcalled, but we ignored 'em, heading straight down the stairs and out of the house to Tim's car.

* * *

Hmm, is Annabelle perhaps feeling a bit more for Tim than she will admit to? But the better question-does he feel anything for her? What's up with Two-Bit? And is Angela going to find out about her brother and her best friend? What will she think of it all? Any opinions that you'd like to share with me? Any suggestions or ideas? Any criticism or mistakes? Please review.


	13. I don't like feeling this way

**Author's Note: **A little self-conscious about this chapter, so review, pretty please.

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle... ahem... ran into... Tim at Buck's and they agreed to head to his house.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any familiar characters, situations or places. The lyrics are from Austin, We Have A Problem by Fallout Boy.

* * *

Itsallaboutme: Oo, I'd love to read your take on Annabelle sometime; hehe, I'm kind of flattered that you worked her into your story... Thanks for the review!

* * *

_"when the hook sets in and this all ends, i will wish it never began"_

All I could hear was the whir of Tim's car switching gears as he drove down the road, a good ten miles over the limit. I was sitting in the passenger seat, my forehead resting against the cold glass, beginning to wonder, finally, just what I was doing.

Tim glanced over at me and I guess he could tell something was up. "What is it?" He asked, his voice purposely patient.

I lifted my head to look at him, my eyes tracing his face and the scar I'd somehow forgotten was present on his temple. It had always been there, or for four or so years anyway, but I guess I'd stopped even noticing it.

Angie had told me about when he got it. We hadn't been friends back when it had happened, but one day about a year ago, we'd been in her room, me lying draped in her chair with my feet sticking out the open window and her lying on her back on her bed, her long black hair fanned out about her. We were both smoking and drinking, holding the cool bottles up to our faces to try to ease the mugginess of the summer day.

I'd caught sight of Tim walking across the small yard and the sun had fallen on his face, showing me his scar with startling clarity. "How'd that happen?" I asked, nodding out the window. Of course Angie couldn't see what I was talking about, and she propped herself up on her elbows, cocking her head to one side.

"Huh?"

"Your brother. The scar on his face." I took another drag on my cigarette as he disappeared from view, around the corner of the next house.

"Oh, that." Angie dropped back against her bed again, the mattress springs squeaking a little. But then she scrunched her face up thoughtfully, thinking back. "He never told me, exactly. Just said he got in a fight with someone an' the hobo pulled a busted pop bottle on him."

I nodded. "He gets in a lotta fights," I observed, a note of contempt in my voice, remembering to how my own brother had stumbled home a year ago, his nose bleeding all over the damn place after him and Shepard had gotten into it. I'd just rolled my eyes at Two-Bit then, barely even given him a second glance, but alone in my room I had listened a little too carefully to him and my ma talk, just to make sure he wasn't hurt too bad or nothing.

But Angela didn't pick up on my tone, instead nodding, her blue eyes gleaming a little as she thought of her oldest brother. "Everybody respects him."

It was true enough, and now, my eyes on his face in the glow of the passing streetlights as he drove toward his house, I could see why. He was tough, yes, but he was controlled. It was that restraint that separated him from Curly or Dallas even. He got angry, but he only acted on it if he damn well wanted to. Nothing he did was an accident, which made me wonder just what he was doing with me.

"Annabelle?" He asked again, glancing over at me and I saw a hint of worry in his eyes. I knew what he was thinking; he was wondering if I had done something, smoked a weed, and the reason I was so out of it was because I was stoned.

But I hadn't, which seemed a little surprising even to me. "Yeah." I swallowed thickly, not sure just why I suddenly felt so weird.

"What's the matter," he asked flatly, his eyes still on the road ahead of him, and he clenched his jaw when I shook my head dismissively. "I know something's up. What are you thinking about?"

I opened my mouth to brush him off again, but then I had a flashback to his hand around Julie's, his fingers on that whore's leg at Buck's. "I ain't gonna be one of them," I said suddenly, abruptly, my strong voice filling the silence of the car.

He shifted again, pressing down the gas pedal with his foot, and I felt the car leap forward a little. "One of who?"

I let out a frustrated sigh even though I knew it wasn't his fault he had no clue what I was talking about. Hell, I didn't even know what I was trying to say.

"Them," I waved my hand in the air. "This can't happen like this, Tim."

"Like what?" He glanced in the side mirror, checking the empty road behind him before he eased into the next lane.

"This! I don't want to be anyone else. This has gotta stop."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, his voice still patient, and I couldn't detect even a hint of strain or irritation.

I sighed again, trying to sort my thoughts in my head. It was several minutes later that I finally spoke again. "It hurt, Tim, to see you with Julie. More 'an it oughta." There. I'd said it. It was my own way of saying that I cared about him, and he, being Tim, picked up on that subtle emotion, his face still turned to the street.

"Fine. I'll stop seeing her. We were done anyway, probably." His words were carefully thought out, and he glided to a standstill at the stop sign, finally glancing over at me. As our eyes met, I shook my head.

"It ain't just her. That girl at the party…"

"That was a one-time thing anyway," he said matter-of-factly, all facts and details like he always was.

"You don't get it, Tim."

"No," he said flatly, "I don't. I'm tellin' you I'm done with them, and you're still upset."

Frustration was bubbling up inside of me again, and I let it take me over, the way I always did. Glory, a relationship with him could never work anyway, could it? I was all emotion, all pain and desperate attempts to veil my feelings, and he was all facts, details and lists, always thinking everything over before acting.

"There'll be others. Those two girls aren't the only ones there are, and I don't want to sit in the corner an' see you with someone else, knowing that I had you to myself a day ago, or that I will in another two nights." By now, I was getting worked up, my face flushed and my eyes watery.

"You're exaggerating, Annabelle." He turned back to the street, stepping the pedal and pulling us away from that stop sign with a jerk of the car and a whir of the tires.

"I just… I don't like it, Tim. I don't like feeling this way."

"What way?"

"Jealous!" A few tears had slipped down my cheeks and I turned away abruptly, setting my forehead back against that glass, trying to hide those drops from him.

But Tim had already seen somehow, in the reflection of the glass or in some mirror most likely, and he waited until he pulled into his driveway a minute later to turn to me, after he had cut the engine.

He slid across the seat a little to me, reaching out and touching my shoulder with his hand. But I pulled away petulantly, still seeing Julie's gleaming eyes as she stood as close to Tim as she could get.

He didn't let me shut him off though, instead reaching out and pulling a lock of my hair away from my face. He twisted it around his finger and then tucked it carefully behind my ear, pulling my chin to him gently.

"Annabelle. If you're tellin' me you want me to care about you, I do. If you're telling me you want me to yourself, then stop telling me I can't do it an' let me try," his voice was rough, like it always was, and his eyes were black. But in them I swore that there was a little something more than the calculating look that was always present.

Slowly, wondering if I'd regret it later, I nodded, letting him kiss my lips in that bittersweet way of his and knowing I'd just fallen into something I wasn't likely to know how to climb my way out of.

But as he got out of the car and led me to his room, all I could feel was his hand. As stupid as it sounds, it seemed like it was warming me right up, fighting off the chilliness from my fingers straight to my heart.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So is Tim out of character in this? I wanted to get across the point that they are deciding to actually be more than just one night stands and such and they're admitting that maybe they feel a little more than just lust, but still... I was very careful to make sure that Tim didn't say that he could carry on a relationship, he said that he would give it a try, and it isn't going to be perfect, believe me. So... I don't know. Please tell me if you think he seemed unrealistic or anything...


	14. You Whore

**Author's Note: **I liked this chapter in the beginning, but now I'm not so sure, so tell me what you think pretty please?

**Previous Chapter:** Annabelle and Tim decided to go steady.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any familiar characters, situations or places. The lyrics are from Careless Whispers by George Michael.

* * *

Itsallaboutme: Good, I'm glad Tim seems realistic. Thanks for the review!

Hawaiichick: Thank you! Yes, Tim is rather sexy, isn't he? Haha. And yeah, enjoy the drama in this one because there's definitely some in it...

* * *

_"time can never mend the careless whispers of a good friend"_

I woke up slowly, yawning and blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the window. For once, I didn't instantly wonder whose bed I was in or whose arm was hugging my waist or whose lips were kissing my shoulder. I knew, and I snuggled in deeper against Tim's chest with a content grin.

"When'd you get this?" he murmured softly, tracing my tattoo with his finger.

"Mm… not too long ago. A month or less."

Tim nodded and was silent for a minute or two before he asked abruptly, "You hungry?" When I nodded, he climbed from bed, putting on his jeans. I pulled an old baggy tee of Tim's on that hung down to just below my thighs and we wandered on to the kitchen.

We had the house to ourselves, and Tim seemed to be on his best behavior, fixing me toast and coming up behind me, hugging me to his chest.

We stood like that for a minute, my ear pressed against his beating heart and my fingers brushing along his strong arms. He opened his mouth to say something but before the words could leave his throat, the sound of giggling met us. It was Angie, and from the sound of it, James was with her.

_Oh lord,_ I thought frantically, _I ain't ready for this. _Tim caught my panicked look and raised his eyebrows. "You know everyone woulda found out anyway if you wanna be my girl."

He said it with a hint of a question in his tone, as if he were asking me if I had changed my mind, and I hadn't. I did still wanna be with Tim. I just didn't want a big confrontation with my best friend when she found out.

So I kissed Tim's lips softly and tried to keep from jumping into my defensive mode as the kitchen door swung upon and Angie stumbled in, James right behind her.

"Oh God." She stopped laughing, stopped smiling, nearly stopped breathing as she stared at Tim and me. My hand itched to reach down and tug at the bottom of my—Tim's—shirt, pulling it down a little more, but I wouldn't let it, instead meeting Angie's steely gaze with a cool one of my own.

We musta held glares for a good minute 'fore Tim cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Ang—" he started, but she wasn't even glancing at him.

"You. Whore," she spat out, her eyes narrowed angrily. Tears sprang to my eyes at her harsh tone, and Tim even seemed a little surprised.

"Takes one to know one," I shot back, swallowing the lump in my throat, determined not to let her see me cry.

"Real original, Ann. You come up with that yourself?" Her face was twisted in a snarl and I remembered back to seeing her treat other girls like this and thinking that I never wanted to be on the other side of that glare. Angela Shepard ain't someone you want to cross.

We were both tense, and when James tried to set his hand on her shoulder, she shook him off angrily.

But Tim had seen enough. "Stop." He stepped between us, giving Angela a stern glare and then shooting one at me. "Cool it," he snapped as Angie opened her mouth to protest.

He nodded his head at me, gesturing for me to go upstairs with him and leave Angela alone in her fury, but I wasn't quite ready to let it go. "Do you always have to be such a bitch?" I asked angrily.

She didn't even flinch, only tossed her head back and laughed, the sound harsh and rude. Instead of replying to me, she turned her head to her brother but kept her eyes glued to me. "You're really gonna screw with this trash? Do you have any idea the kinds of things that she's done?"

_So this is how she wants to play the game_, I thought grimly. Stupid move on her part. "Ha. At least I've never gotten trashed and then stripped naked on Buck's pool table."

Her eyes darkened considerably. "Oh please. You're the druggie that can't get through a week without some kind of a fix."

"Hey!" Tim snapped, grabbing Angela's arm to push her out of the kitchen before him and into the living room. The swinging door caught on the wrinkled rug and stayed open so I could still see Angela and she me, but Tim was talkin' quiet enough that I couldn't hear him. With them in the living room, James and I had been left alone. He seemed invisible though, for all the part he was taking in this fight. He just stood off in the corner and watched, playing with his lighter in boredom. He'd seen his girl get in a million fights just like this, so why should it have been any different for him?

It seemed weird to me though that it was so clearly nothing special to James, but for me it was like the whole world was tipping. This girl had been my best friend. I had held her hair back while she puked her guts out into the bushes after having a few too many drinks, and she had sat with me through the night when I was flying so high on drugs that I couldn't even remember where the ground was.

We knew each other's deepest, darkest secrets. She knew that I had caught a glimpse of my father on a bus a year ago as he was passing through town. In fact, she had been the one handing me the beer and cigarette as I vented angrily about his nerve, traveling back through like that, almost like he was checking up on us. And I knew that she was terrified of her stepfather, and I was the only one in the world that knew that he hit her almost once a week. Hell, Tim didn't like to leave her alone with him 'cause he expected it to happen in the future, but he had no idea it was already going on, or that the reason she always seemed to have a jacket shrugged on over her shoulders was to cover the hand-shaped bruises on her arms.

I'd asked her once why she never told Tim; this was when I was sitting beside her as she held an ice pack to her shoulder where he'd grabbed her, and she just turned her head at me, her eyes lookin' scary they were so haunted. "I ain't gonna be the one to put my brother in jail for murder."

But right then, as I stared at her standing in front of her brother as Tim lectured her, I couldn't remember all that stuff. She wasn't my best friend in that minute, not with the way she had her eyes narrowed at me as she slowly, deliberately mouthed out "Bitch."

And I don't know, maybe it was because I _wasn't_ thinking about all those good times we'd shared that I launched myself at her the second she turned her face away again, shoving her back with my hands.

She whipped around to face me with a disbelieving look and Tim's eyebrows shot up as she leaned over and popped me in the jaw. And then it was an all-out fight, complete with hair-pulling, scratching and loud curses and insults.

It didn't go on for too long though before Tim managed to shove us apart. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you two?" He bellowed, stopping both of us in our tracks. We stood a few feet away with him between us, both of us panting. She had a good black eye starting up and I could taste blood from where I'd bitten my tongue, not to mention the long scratch on my neck that was dripping red.

Tim took my arm and roughly pushed me toward the stairs and his room, giving me a glare when I turned back to flip Angela off. He wasn't exactly in the mood right then, so I left it alone, falling onto his bed with an exhausted sigh.

I could hear his voice as he yelled at Angela, and the angry tone of her own as she screamed back, but I couldn't make out any words, and I wasn't so sure I wanted to right then. A few minutes later, the whole thing ended with the slamming of the front door, and I knew Angie had left in a huff.

The stairs creaked a little as Tim walked back up, and I didn't lift my head to meet his gaze when I felt him stop in the doorway. "Annabelle," he began giving me the same lecture he'd given Angela, but I sat up with an angry glare.

"Don't even start with me, Tim. I ain't your sister and I don't want you tellin' me what I can or can't do," my voice shook with emotion, and it wasn't just the fury I was feelin'. It was also a little bit of upset over having lost my best friend.

"Maybe you ain't, but that don't mean that you get to run around bitch-fighting with her whenever you want to." I could hear the protective edge to his voice that he always had when he talked about his siblings, and right then I hated it. I'd always thought it was attractive before, admirable, but when Angela and I were enemies, I wanted my boyfriend on _my _side, not hers.

I was too tired and too worked up to fuck around with him or to listen to his speech, so I just grabbed my clothes and pulled them on, tossing Tim's shirt back onto his mattress with an angry flourish.

I didn't look at him as I got dressed, even though I knew he was watching me, and as I pushed past him to get out of that room, he reached his hand out and set it on my arm. "Annabelle, come on."

"No," I snapped out, sighing in frustration as I felt him tense beside me, instantly on the defensive. Running a hand through my hair, I stopped and turned to him. "Not now, Tim. I just can't do this right now. I'll catch up with you later."

And he let me go, watching from the window as I started my walk home, grateful for the chilly breeze.

* * *

So are Angela and Annabelle going to make up, or is this the end for their friendship? Will Tim figure out about Angela's being abused? And there will be some Two-Bit in the next chapter...


	15. Maybe I don't

**Author's Note: **Hm, long time no see, huh? Almost a month. I've had a huge dose of writer's block, but I finally managed to get something out, which is this chapter. Probably not the best, but at least it's something. And I've got a break from school coming up next week, so hopefully I'll be able to write a lot easier and get another chapter up soon. And to anyone who left a review that I didn't reply to, I'm sorry. The alerts system was down when I posted the chapter, and so I replied through PMs for some people, and then I got confused, so now I'm just not sure what I did. So sorry, and I appreciate your review very much.

Oh, and if I didn't already say this, thank you to whoever it was that nominated this story for Best Minor and Best Drama/Angst at the wrongsideofthetracksawards. There are some really great stories there, so I suggest you head on over and check them out, then vote for your favorite!

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle and Angela had a huge fight, and then Annabelle and Tim had a little spat.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations or places. The lyrics are from Barely Breathing by Vertical Horizon.

* * *

Itsallaboutme: Haha, I saw the third x-men movie, but none of the others. It was pretty good. And we'll just have to see what happens with Annabelle and Angela...

* * *

_"i don't know who i'm kidding, imagining you care"_

It was a decent walk to get back to my house and by the time I finally started up my short, weeded walkway, I at least wasn't feeling so aggravated. So Angela didn't want to be friends anymore; okay, I could live with that. I didn't need her, I told myself. I didn't need anyone.

"Annabelle!" My mother called the second I shut the door behind me. I met her in the kitchen where I found her and Two-Bit crowded around the table, hunched over something that my brother was holding.

With a curious tilt to my head, I stepped closer, wondering what was so fascinating, and gasping slightly as the light glinted off a diamond ring. It was nothing too special, just a small gem in the middle of a thin gold band, but in this neighborhood and for my brother, it was pretty damn tuff.

"You lift it?" I asked, trying to tease him playfully, not really meaning for my voice to come out as tense as it did. For once in my life, I wasn't actually trying to pick a fight with my brother, too exhausted from my altercation with Angela to upset Two-Bit. But even when I wasn't trying to snap at him, I guess I just couldn't keep the edge out of my voice.

He looked up at me sharply, one quick flash of hurt running across his face before he turned his gaze back down to the ring in his fingers. "No. I've been savin' up for a while now."

"Savin' up from what?" I snorted, cursing myself again for picking on him.

"My job," he snapped back, and I stared at him for a little bit. He'd gotten a job? When the hell had that happened?

I guess my shock showed on my face 'cause Two-Bit sighed heavily. "I been workin' part time at the Safeway for a good six months now, Annabelle."

Glory, if my day hadn't been full enough, now I had to add to it that I'd just realized I had absolutely no connection to my family at all.

Without a word, my head in other places, I just turned around and walked back out of the kitchen and to my room, falling onto the bed and lighting up a cigarette. I stared up at my ceiling, thinking over everything.

Kathy an' I used to get along just fine, the first few months she an' Two-Bit started dating, but then my dad left and I guess I kinda changed. After that, she jus' never really liked me, nor I her.

Two-Bit spent a whole hell of a lot of time at the Curtis' an' at Kathy's after Dad left, and I spent mine at Buck's acting like I was a lot older than thirteen.

She sure as shootin' made Two-Bit happy though. An' at least she wasn't bad for him. She don't push him to drink and shit like that now that he's cut back.

He used to go out every night and get reeling drunk; I'd hear him stumble in at five in the mornin', if he even did come home. Lots of times he stayed at the Curtis' or Buck's, or a couple times even on a bench in the park.

After Dal and Johnny died, he spiraled a little bit out of control with the booze; I didn't see him for weeks at a time and every time he did come home, his eyes were glazed over and his hair was ruffled. Kathy started to get real mad at him for drinkin' so much, and she and him would get in some horrible fights.

I'd never before believed that it had been her that had got him to cut back so much on the drinking, but now I had to wonder. She had broken down in tears one day, the mornin' after he got hauled to the station for disrupting the public when he was so drunk, and begged him to stop. I guess I'd figured that he had just agreed to get her to shut up, but now I thought that maybe she'd given him a reality check.

Turns out my brother don't need the booze to crack jokes and have a good time, although Lord knows I don't think I can without it or some other kind of "assistance."

I took another lazy drag of my cigarette and blew it out the side of my mouth, thinking aimlessly until a knock came at the door.

"Yeah?"

Two-Bit pushed open my door, ambling in and sitting on the bottom of my bed. "What's up with you?" He asked, watching me.

I shrugged. "What makes you say somethin' is different?"

"You're actin' weird."

"How so?"

"For one, you ain't drunk and I don't think you're high either, an' for another you ain't snapping at me right now." Glory, what kind of a person was I where those two things tipped Two-Bit off to the idea that something was wrong with me?

Instead of answering, I blurted out, "I'm with Shepard now." I'm not sure just what I was hoping to accomplish, maybe jus' getting it over with, like ripping a bandage off quick.

"Curly?" Two-Bit asked, scrunching up his face in thought.

I shook my head. "Tim."

At this, my brother lifted one eyebrow and pushed the other way down, staring at me like he was hoping maybe I was joshin' him. "Tell me you're kidding."

I shook my head again, taking a long drag on my cigarette and letting the smoke out slowly, still not really looking at Two-Bit. "You, my sixteen-year-old sister, is screwing with Tim Shepard, a twenty-year-old gang leader?"

"Well glory, when you say it like that…" I rolled my eyes.

"No, Annabelle, there ain't no better way to say it! That's just plain wrong. I can't believe even you'd have the bad sense to mess with him!"

I sat up, crossing my legs over each other so I was sitting Indian style and plucked my weed in my fingers. "He's your friend; you must like him for some reason."

"No I don't. I can't stand the guy; he's just a good person to have watchin' your back."

"Well gee, Two-Bit, what a nice guy you are. Do you use all your so-called friends like that? What's Pony's purpose? Or Steve's? Is he just your friend so you can get him to, what, lift hubs for your shitty car?"

I still wasn't really angry, feeling surprisingly calm as I listened to my brother attack my… what, boyfriend? Was that what we had decided? It seemed like it, but why did it feel so strange, then, to think of Tim Shepard and the word "boyfriend" in the same sentence?

"Stop it. You know it ain't like that. Look, Tim might be a guy I can stand to hang around, but that don't mean I want you messin' with him."

"Why do you even care?" I finally asked, stubbing out my cigarette in an ashtray by the side of my bed. It was the perfect opportunity to tell him what had been bugging me so bad—the idea that after he and Kathy got hitched he'd forget he ever had a sister, but just before the words could leave my mouth, I stopped.

Two-Bit seemed to notice the change in my face, from open to closed in a split second, and he shut down too. "Maybe I don't." The worst thing was that his voice wasn't tinged with bitterness or anger; it was just flat, calm, thoughtful. He wasn't sayin' that just 'cause we were fighting. He was saying it 'cause he was really starting to wonder why he did give a shit about anything I did.

He stood up from my bed and left, shutting the door softly behind him and leaving me to stare at the wall, alone.

* * *

Hm. Is Two-Bit really going to go through with the proposal? Will he and Annabelle work through things, or are they just done? Is love unconditional, or do they prove that it isn't? There should be more of Tim in the next chapter, and less Two-Bit. Any suggestions or criticism are welcome.


	16. Who is Mary?

**Author's Note: **I kinda liked this chapter, and then I kinda didn't, and now I kinda don't care. Haha. It feels kind of filler-like to me, but I think it establishes the volatile and not quite healthy relationship that Tim and Annabelle share. So let me know what you think, and happy Thanksgiving and such. Oh, and I replied to everyone's reviews, but the alert system appears to be down, so sorry. Hopefully updates won't slow on this story, but I did start another one (Back Home Again), so I'll be working on it as well.

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle told Two-Bit about her and Tim, and they talked.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations or places. The lyrics are from Right Here Waiting by Staind.

* * *

Itsallaboutme: You're welcome. Sorry for taking so long, but I was having the hardest time concentrating on anything. I think Tim is actually healthy for her in some ways because, like you said, he makes her a bit calmer and tries to keep her from going too out of control. It's just that they're so inconsistent. Or something. Thanks for the review!

* * *

_"you always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting"_

Angie stopped picking me up for school after our fight, and I was pretty damn sure that we weren't friends anymore. That had been one raging argument, and I didn't feel like seein' her any more than she felt like talking to me.

Of course, that left me to bum rides with Two-Bit, which were always long and silent. He'd drum his fingers against the wheel and occasionally mutter out a curse at some car in front of him or at his set of wheels if it decided to stall or somethin', and I stared out the window the whole time, a frown on my face.

He hadn't proposed to Kathy yet, but I was trying my damndest to ignore any of that. If he wanted to get hitched to a trashy slut, then he could just go right ahead, as far as I was concerned.

It was two weeks after Angela and my fight when I walked out of the school building and felt my eyebrow raise a little in surprise. Tim was standin' in the parking lot, leaning against his car door with a cigarette held loosely between his fingers.

He was there for me, I knew, 'cause Angela had driven, like always. I walked over to him under everyone's stares. Anybody who hung around the same places Tim an' I did knew we were together, but not many others did. Half the school probably didn't know, and they sure got quite a shock when they saw Tim kiss me long and deep right there in the front of the building. He gripped my waist with one hand, claiming me, and when we pulled apart, he nodded toward the car. "Get in."

I did what he said to and he slid into his own seat just as Angela flounced toward the parking lot with her new best friend, Carol Cutler. Carol was a dull prick, and I knew that Angela was just makin' such a huge deal outta being best friends with her to piss me off.

It was workin' pretty well though.

Angela gave Tim an' I an icy glare before she turned away, laughing with Carol. Carol shot a look back at us too and snickered, and I knew they were havin' a grand ol' time talking about Tim and I. I said as much to him, but he just shrugged. "What do you care?"

"I don't," I snapped angrily, and he just chuckled. I hated that. He was always so passive, so calm and cool. Nothing ever got the best of Tim Shepard, and he always just found it amusing when I got upset, which only got me even angrier.

Tim was just about to drive off when someone came over to talk to him, and he got into a good conversation. I didn't pay any attention, looking at the people milling around instead. Two-Bit, Kathy and Ponyboy were all by his car, but Pony was the only one lookin' at me. He had the strangest emotion in his eyes, and he turned away 'fore I could figure out what it was, but it looked a little like disgust to me.

Steve was nowhere to be seen, and I remembered hearing something about a fight he had scheduled for right after school ended. He'd already be over at the Dingo with his opponent, probably just about to take the first punch.

I wondered idly who'd be stupid enough to get into a fight with Randle. He was strong and lean, and he had enough anger pent up in him that he made every punch count. He was way too violent, almost as bad as Dallas Winston.

Sure enough though, I had heard right because Two-Bit and that whole group were piling into his car to head over to the Dingo and watch their buddy.

It wasn't but five minutes after they left that I heard Tim's tone change. I turned back to look at him, and he was talkin' with the guy still. Danny, his name was. He was in one of my classes and I saw him talking to Tim at Buck's or other places sometimes. I assumed he was in the Shepard gang, probably one of Tim's main guys.

Within an instant, Tim had gunned the engine and was speeding off down the road. I watched the scenery pass by in a blur, just waitin' to see where we were headed. Tim's face was stony and I didn't really want to take his concentration from the road when we were goin' this fast.

We pulled into the Dingo pretty quick, and he stopped his car with a squeal of tires. He was out before I could even blink, and I ran out after him. I slipped my hand into his, but he barely noticed. "Tim?" He was startin' to scare me just a tiny bit, the way he looked.

"Tim… Tim!" I wasn't so scared anymore, then I was just annoyed. If there's one thing I really hate, it's being ignored. Makes me feel like I ain't even there, like I'm a ghost or somethin'. It's a creepy feeling and I hate it.

He still didn't pay me any mind though, just pushing his way through the big ol' crowd that had gathered 'til he was at the very front. I wiggled my way to the front beside him and watched, finally understanding his urgency.

Standing across from each other with blank, hard expressions were Steve and Curly. They were both watching each other for the perfect opening to start off the big fight, and Tim looked none too happy about it.

I wondered momentarily if he was gonna get in there and pull Curly right from the fight, but he didn't. Instead he shook his head a little, knowing he was too late to stop it.

Dropping my hand, he pushed back through the crowd. I turned to follow him, but the people were pressed together so tightly I wasn't sure how I was supposed to get through. How the hell had Tim done it, I wondered vaguely.

But then a loud crack pulled my attention back to the fight, and I saw an angry Steve recovering from a hard hit to the jaw. Curly had a cocky glint to his eyes, but it didn't last for long. Next thing I knew, him and Steve were really at it, punching the guts out of each other. Steve was getting in more hits than he was receiving, that anger taking over again, and Curly was slowly losing his haughty expression, just trying to block punches.

I scanned the crowd for Tim, and finally found him leaning against the wall of the Dingo, smoking and looking away, off down the street. He wasn't even watching the fight.

I shoved my way back out from the crowd and sauntered over to where Tim was. "What're you doin' over here?"

"Smoking," he answered calmly.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and instead let my fingers rest on his upper arm, feeling that strong muscle there. "I mean why ain't you watchin' the fight?"

"What's the point? I know how it's gonna end."

"An' how's it gonna end? Enlighten me, oh wise one," I answered sarcastically. Tim always thought he knew everything, but the worst part of it was that he was always right, which he proved once again.

"Steve'll beat the shit outta Curly, an' you better watch your mouth and stop getting mouthy with me, Annabelle."

"I told you to stop calling me that," I shot back aimlessly, not even really paying attention to what I was saying. It was almost a reflex now, to get onto him for using my real name. He never paid attention, which drove me crazy too. Just 'cause he was Tim Shepard he could do whatever he wanted.

He ignored me and blew out a ring of smoke, snaking his arm around my waist to pull me a little closer to him.

The sounds of the fight were still going on behind us, the graphic smacks and loud cheers, but we weren't paying 'em any mind. Instead of answering him, I moved my fingers up to his face, holding his chin with my long nails. I tipped his head down toward me and leaned up on my tiptoes to kiss him.

His hands gripped me tightly and I knew I had all of his attention. Every last bit of his mind was on me, and I relished that feeling.

It was a good minute later that we pulled apart, and then only 'cause the fight had ended. Steve was the victor, no surprise there.

He did have a gash above his eye that was trickling blood and a few bruises starting on his chin and cheek, but he looked a hell of a lot better than Curly. Half of Curly's face was tinged purple and he had blood oozing from a busted lip.

Tim shook his head and pushed away from the wall, stalking over to his brother. I didn't follow him, choosing instead to let him chew Curly out alone. He yanked Curly's shirt collar and pulled him away from the crowd, over to the side of the parking lot, and started lecturing him something awful.

After a minute, Tim just dropped his cigarette to the ground and pushed Curly into the passenger side of his car. He turned and scanned the lot for me, waving me over as he slid into the driver's seat. I hopped into the back and buckled my belt as Tim sped off toward his house, not looking at Curly or me.

His disappointment hung in the air around us, and it made me real uncomfortable. Curly just lifted his head a little. "You mad at me, Tim?"

Tim looked like he was gonna snap out some sarcastic remark, but then he just gripped the wheel a little tighter. "No."

"Then why're you actin' like this? Did ya get in a lover's quarrel?" He chuckled, jerking his head back toward me.

I stiffened angrily, about ready to finish what Steve had started and knock Curly straight out, but Tim just ignored him so I kept my mouth shut and my hands still.

Tim parked in his driveway and got out, leaving me and Curly to hop out ourselves as he stalked into the house.

I climbed to the front, consciously aware that my short skirt was riding up way farther than I wanted it to when Curly was sittin' right there watching me. I wanted to wipe the smug little look right from his face, but he looked so pitiful with this bruises and cuts that I just glared at him and walked away, after Tim.

I passed Angela in the living room, but she plain ignored me and I did the same to her, heading straight for Tim's room upstairs.

In the doorway, I paused. Tim was standing at his dresser, scooping the loose change and pack of matches and cigarettes from his pockets. He set them all on the wooden top and turned around, not showing any surprise at seeing me there.

I walked toward him, one corner of my mouth turned up in a seductive smile, and I kissed him. I felt him slowly relax and reveled at the power I seemed to hold. "Mary…" he mumbled out, and I stiffened instantly.

Pulling from his grasp, I stepped back, feeling my face flush red with anger. "Who the hell is Mary?" My voice was rigid and icy, but he barely blinked.

Tim's expression didn't waver. "I meant Annabelle."

"Well that ain't what you said."

He stepped closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, but I pushed him back with as much force as I could, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at him.

"Mary just slipped out, it don't mean anything."

"Who is Mary?" I demanded again, and he sighed.

"Jus' a girl I used to know. She doesn't mean anything. I ain't even seen her in a few weeks."

"Well she obviously does mean somethin', now doesn't she, _Timothy_?" I spat out.

"Good lord, Annabelle, stop actin' like a damn fool," he scolded me, frowning, but I wasn't in the mood to put up with his calm composure.

Instead, I turned away and walked over to his bed, sitting on it as far away from him as I could get. He stood still for a few minutes before he finally sighed and walked over to me again. "You know you're my girl," Tim murmured as he wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed my neck and shoulders.

I felt myself shiver a little as his lips brushed across my skin, and I tried to hold fast to my resolve even as I felt myself start to crumble. "Well maybe you'd rather have Mary," I shot back with as much iciness as I could muster. It came out weaker than I meant for it to though, an' I just sounded jealous.

At those words, Tim lifted his head and turned my face toward him. His eyes were serious. "I want you or I wouldn't be with you. I wouldn't waste my time with you if I didn't feel somethin'."

It seemed true enough. Tim Shepard ain't one for wasting anything, be it time or money or effort, so as he kissed me again, I let myself relax in his arms. He knew he was triumphant and he leaned me back to his bed, playing with the hem of my shirt before I finally lifted my arms and let him pull it off.

How was it that all of our arguments seemed to end with sex?

* * *

Hm, doesn't sound like a healthy relationship to me. Will Tim and Annabelle break up? Is Two-Bit going to propose? Will Angela and Annabelle ever be friends again?


	17. Pull your claws back in, will ya?

**Author's Note:** Review, purty please? I'm not quite sure about this chapter, so anything you have to say about it is welcome.

**Previous Chapter: **Tim and Annabelle watched Curly fight with Steve, and then they argued, but made up.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any familiar characters, situations or places. The lyrics are from Holiday From Real by Jack's Mannequin.

* * *

Itsallaboutme: Thank you for the review, as always. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.

* * *

_"if you left it up to me, every day would be a holiday from real"_

"Two-Bit ain't here," I snarled, shutting the door without waiting for any kind of a reaction. But Kathy was quick, and she stuck her foot in the door to hold it open. Surprised, I didn't stop her when she shoved it back and walked inside like she owned the place.

"I ain't here for him. I wanna talk to you," she said, walking right past me and to my room.

She was lucky I was in a good mood or I'd have already bitten her head off. But Tim had picked me up for lunch that day and it _was _a Friday, so I was feelin' happy enough.

I followed Kathy to my room and found her standing over by my dresser, looking at all the knickknacks I had strewn over the wooden top, things like makeup and a hairbrush and some loose change. "Look, Kathy, what do you want? I ain't got all day to sit around and chat."

She turned to me with a little frown, but she wiped it off her face quick enough. "I wanna talk to you about your brother."

_Oh Lord, here we go. _I thought, suppressing a groan. Maybe she thought she knew all about Two-Bit, and hell, she probably did know more 'an me, but that didn't mean that I wanted to sit around and _talk_ about how little I really understood about my brother.

"What about him?" I asked icily, and she just rolled her eyes, smacking her gum real loud.

"I don't know what your little problem is, but you've been acting like a real bitch to him lately."

Now that surprised me, though I'd never let it show. I'd actually thought I was being nicer to him than I had been in the past. We'd just been leaving each other alone, which was better than constantly bickering, wasn't it?

"Where do you get off trying to tell me how to treat my brother?" I snapped, and she narrowed her eyes.

"Like it or not, I love your brother an' I actually want him to be happy. I know you don't care, but I do, and he hasn't been in his right mind lately 'cause of you. He's spacing out and havin' a hard time concentrating on anything. He almost got fired from his job the other day."

"He's a big boy, Kathy. I think he can make his own decisions. Don't you blame me for his stupid mistakes."

"You really don't get it, do you?" She asked, her fingers tapping a rhythm on her leg impatiently. "He cares about you a lot more than either of you are willing to admit. Stop actin' like you're some kind of a victim and open your eyes to see what's right in front of you."

Things could have gone one of two ways right then—I could listen to her, take in what she'd said and maybe even make amends, or I could shut her out and stick with what was easiest, which was believing what I had all along, that it was me against everyone else and Two-Bit was just another person.

And I guess I always was one for taking the easy way out.

"Who do you think you are? You don't know anything about me, an' I suggest you get the hell out of my house. You're just askin' for a fight," I snapped, icy and stiff.

She stood up with a roll of her eyes and a loud pop of her gum. "Fine, but don't say I didn't try."

I followed her to the front door, just to make sure she left, I guess, and it was right when she was opening it to leave that she turned around again. "You're with Tim now, right?"

Instantly on the defensive, I replied with only, "What's it to you?"

"Damn girl; pull your claws back in, will ya? I was just gonna say I think that's cool. He's a good guy, once you get past his barriers. Which not many girls can do, but I think you'll be one of 'em," she was looking at me with a thoughtful expression on her face, and I found myself twisting the ring he'd given me to show he an' I were together around my finger.

She left then, in a cloud of perfume and the lingering scent of smoke, but I was standing in front of that door a good five minutes later, still trying to work out what she'd said. I was convinced it was some kind of a hidden insult or jab at me, but I couldn't figure out just what it was she really meant to say.

It never occurred to me that maybe she'd just meant exactly what she'd said.

* * *

Three hours later, Tim was at my house, kissing my neck as we stood in the middle of my room. He was mumbling a million different things in my ear, but I wasn't listening to him at all, instead listening to what Kathy had said play back in my mind.

"Hey, Tim," I asked, rolling my eyes a little as I pushed him away from me for a second. "You know Kathy, right? Kathy Lowe, Two-Bit's girl?"

He frowned, almost like he expected it to be a trick question, and stiffened. I couldn't really blame him—I had just gotten finished yelling at him something awful for watching another girl walk by on the street the day before.

"I seen her around a few times."

"What do you think of her?"

Now Tim was flat out uncomfortable, shifting on his feet and eyeing me warily. "I ain't ever done anything with her, if that's what you're getting at," he said.

"No, I know that, but do you think she's good person?" I blurted out, and then paused, rethinking what I'd said. Not many greasers could really be labeled good people. "I mean, do you think she's honest?"

"I've never known her to lie," Tim said carefully. "Why?"

"Huh? Oh, nothin'. I was just thinking about somethin' she said." I chewed on my bottom lip thoughtfully, and Tim just watched me for a minute.

"What is it?"

"What?" I asked.

"Somethin' is bothering you, so what is it?"

"Nothin'." I sighed heavily and plopped down on my bed, suddenly exhausted with trying to figure out what kind of mind games Kathy was playing. "Hey, let's go out," I said abruptly, sitting back up with a smirk.

Tim shook his head though, "I got some things to take care of. I need to be leaving anyway."

I nearly opened my mouth to say I'd go with him, but then I changed my mind. The way Tim had said that, the clipped tone of his voice… whatever it was he would "take care of" wasn't gonna be somethin' I wanted to see.

Sometimes it was hard to remember that he was Tim Shepard, a feared and respected gang leader around town. But other times, like right then, it was hard to forget.

I let him lean down and kiss me once on the lips before he straightened back up and dug around in his pocket for his car keys.

"I'll come by when I'm done an' we can go out."

Not ten minutes after he left, I had twisted open a flask of vodka and was chugging back big gulps. When I had downed a good half, I set the cap back on and put it back on my dresser, instead turning to my closet to pick out an outfit for the night.

By the time I was ready to go out, it had only been two hours but already my breath reeked of vodka. An', all right, I did smoke a joint or two, and just because I had some more dust, I may have dipped it in there a few times. Probably not my smartest idea after that whole ordeal a few weeks back, but I liked that kinda thing. It was a way to get completely away from the real world, an' when you're flying that high and seein' shit that can't possibly be true, it's like you formed your own reality. Then you don't have to play by the world's rules. You can talk to someone that's dead an' you can go floating over the buildings in New York, defying gravity.

Tim wasn't back yet, but I figured I'd just go on to Buck's anyway. I wanted out of that empty house.

Maybe I didn't really think it through though, because by the time I stumbled away from my porch and started down the street toward Buck's, I was nearly bent over laughing because a bird had pooped on a tuff ol' '66 'stang, and so drunk I could barely put one foot in front of the other.

In fact, I wound up doubling back for a little bit 'fore I realized I was headed the wrong way. That was about when Pony caught sight of me. He was jogging around the neighborhood, his sweater already soaked through with sweat, and he stopped beside me.

"Annabelle…"

I looked at him, at his serious face and his furrowed brow, and then a bird flew overhead and I just lost it, cracking up all over again. I bent down a little as I laughed, but then I lost my footing and fell back to the ground, sitting sideways on my knees, still giggling.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, crouching down in front of me and taking a close look at my face. "You're drunk," he said flatly.

I just nodded, my eyes catching sight of somethin' off down the street a little ways. It was a fire, cackling with intensity and getting closer, the flames leaping toward me. I could feel the heat, and inside, I heard Johnny scream.

"I'm comin'!" I yelled, running into the street and toward the fire. I didn't hear the squeal of brakes or Pony's yell, but the fire evaporated right when I got to it, and I stood there in the middle of the road, staring up at the sky. I didn't even notice the black Chevelle that was stopped only about an inch from my leg.

"Shit!" I knew that voice, an' when I turned around, I saw that I was right.

"Timmy!" I giggled, starting to walk toward him but tripping on my toes and falling into the hood of his car with a little bang. "Oops," I said, trying to stand up again.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Ann?" He asked, getting out of his car and walking around to where I was.

"I think she's high again," Pony said, his voice clear and strong.

Tim shot a look at him and then back at me, and he groaned. "Stupid broad," he mumbled, and I shoved him with the palm of my hand.

Of course, in the state I was in, it didn't do a thing, and he just grabbed my wrists in his hands. "Hey, did you do ozone?"

"Why? You wansome too?" I asked eagerly.

"Hell no," he spat out, disgusted, and he pulled me to him, putting me in the passenger side of his car. He shut the door and walked around to his side, stopping to talk with Pony before he got in. I wasn't listenin' to what they were saying, instead talkin' to Johnny who was in the backseat.

When Tim got back in, I was still chattering away with my old friend, and he jus' looked at me. "Who're you talkin' to?"

"Lord Tim, don't be rude. You know Johnny; don't act like you don't," I scolded him, turning around to face the backseat again. "See, Johnny, Tim an' I are together now," I explained.

Tim just turned back to the front and slammed his foot on the gas, taking us toward the Curtis' place, I realized a few minutes later when we pulled up in the street.

"Hey," I protested. "I thought we were gonna go party."

"I think you've partied enough, Annabelle."

I scrunched up my nose at the use of my full first name, especially in that harsh tone of his, but obeyed when he told me to get out. He walked with me up to the door and grabbed my shoulder to move me over to the left a little when I ran into the doorframe.

"Where is everyone?" I asked as I plopped onto the couch.

"Pony said Darry's at the store and'll be back soon, Soda's out with Steve, and Two-Bit is out with Kathy for the night," Tim said, flipping on the light and settling into Darry's armchair.

"Oh no!" I shot up, my eyes wide. "He's gonna do it tonight! Tim, you gotta stop him!"

"Do what? Who?" Tim asked in irritation, and I waved my hands frantically.

"Two-Bit! He's gonna do it tonight!"

"Do what?" Tim snapped again.

"Propose! Damn it, don't you ever listen to me?"

Tim just shook his head in annoyance, but I was insistent, spouting off for a good five minutes about how Tim had to go stop my brother when he finally got tired of it. He snapped the paper he had been pretending to read down on the floor and stalked to me where I lay on the couch. I shriveled a little under his steely gaze and he bent down to where I was, grabbing my wrists in his hands and glaring into my eyes.

I was scared. He was perfectly capable of hurting me, that much I knew. My hair fell into my face a little, but I didn't shake my head or anything. Instead I just waited for whatever it was he was gonna do.

"Stop it, Annabelle."

"Don't call me that," I whispered softly, and he sighed.

"Why not? It's your name, ain't it?"

I shivered, but not 'cause I was cold. "My old man used to call me his Belle," I don't know why I told Tim that, an' my only excuse was the drugs. If I was in my right mind, I never woulda said that.

My father was not usually a mean drunk. He was a lot like Two-Bit in that way, and when he was so soused up he could barely see straight, he'd call me his little Annabelle and his Belle and shit like that. It always used to make me feel real special, but then just one little thing would set him off and he'd get mad.

He always had a hot temper, so whether he was drunk or not, he hit before he thought. An' he took stuff out on people that didn't deserve it. I got a scar on my chin from when he socked me 'cause his work had called to fire him. I was just there, the only one there was to take it out on, an' it was damn bad timing.

Tim's eyes had lost their ferocity and he sat back a little, letting go of his grip on my arms. Sitting with his back against the couch, he sighed. I slid down so I was sitting beside him, and he glanced over at me.

"Why do you do drugs, Annab—" he stopped abruptly and then said only, "Ann."

I shrugged. "You don't understand what it feels like, Tim." And then I think I went off on the same reasons I was thinking about earlier for why I liked it, the part about creating my own reality and all.

He shuddered though, and said only, so quietly I wondered if I was supposed to hear him, "but you can't control what's happening to you."

I wanted to tell him that you never could, but something in his eyes made me pause just long enough to get distracted again when Johnny ambled in from the kitchen.

* * *

It was an hour later that Darry walked through the door, craning his neck to see over the top of the three paper bags he was holding. He set them on the kitchen counter and then walked back to the living room. "Annabelle, Tim. What brings y'all over here?"

Pony had gotten back a little bit before, but he was in his room at the moment. Right then, I was lying upside down on the couch, with my legs crossed at the ankles and my feet resting at the top, and my head dangling off the side.

Tim was just sitting on the floor, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion.

I twisted myself around to try to sit normally again, but I wound up falling off the couch and just lying there, staring at the ceiling. "Oh, we're just hangin' out," I answered, and then started giggling.

Tim shot me a look and then stretched, getting to his feet and walking over toward Darry. "She did ozone again, and I didn't know what to do with her. Pony told me I could bring her back here for a while. I hope that's all right, Darrel."

Darry looked over at me sternly, and I waved. But then Dallas came slouching into the house, my dad right behind him. "Get out!' I yelled, angry that he would try to walk back into my life again.

Dally stopped short and looked at me, shooting a glance at Tim and Darry. But I was glaring right past him, at my father. "I don't want to see you," I hissed. "You don't belong here!"

"What the hell?" Dally snapped, but I ignored him.

I was still glaring furiously at my father, but then he started walking toward me, his face thunderous and his steps heavy. His fist was clenched and my fingers flew instantly to my chin, feeling that scar again. I shrank back against the wall. "No…"

He kept coming though, and I lost all my anger. Right then I was just scared. I was trembling, remembering the feel of his solid fist against my skin like it had happened just the day before. "Please don't, Daddy, please don't…"

Tears were sliding down my cheeks rapidly, and I hardly noticed that everyone was staring at me until Tim was crouched down beside me. I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder. "Don't let him hurt me," I whimpered.

"Hush, Annabe—Ann."

"Man, she's really fucked up…" Dallas said, but I barely heard him. I clung to Tim until he motioned Ponyboy over and tried to transfer my arms over to his neck. I wouldn't let go though; I wanted Tim. He made me feel safer, somehow. When I was with him, I knew that no harm would come to me, and I wasn't about to let go of that sense of security.

So finally, Tim gave up and just sat with me, brushing his fingers through my hair as I slowly started to calm down. My breathing evened out and I fell asleep with the sound of Tim's heart pounding just below my ear.

* * *

Is she ever going to listen to what Kathy said? Did Two-Bit propose? What will everyone do in the morning, when she wakes up?


	18. We need to talk to you

**Author's Note: **Sorry it's so short, but I'll try to post more soon. Thank you to all my reviewers!

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle did angel dust again (tsk tsk) and Tim took her back to the Curtis' to sober up.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations or places. The lyrics are from About Us by Brooke Hogan.

* * *

_"you can save your breath"_

When I woke up, it was morning and I recognized Darry's room this time. Tim was sitting at the edge of the bed and he watched me slowly come to.

Once I had sat up and was fully awake, he stood. "Come an' get some breakfast."

I shook my head. "I'm not hungry."

"I don't give a shit," he shot back, his expression so empty it scared me. He was really upset with me.

"Tim, you can't tell me what to do," I scolded as patiently as I could.

"Like hell I can't." Now I was bristling angrily, and I shot him a furious glare, which he returned with that steely gaze. "You're going to come in and eat something."

"Why?" I snapped.

"Because you haven't had any food for hours, and you need somethin'."

My eyes narrowed dangerously and I took a step closer to him, angry and indignant. "I c'n take care of myself."

He snorted as if he found that hilarious. "Obviously not or I wouldn't have had to hold you 'til you stopped sobbing yesterday. You need to stop taking those damn drugs, Anna."

"Just 'cause I'm your girl now, that don't mean that you get to tell me what to do, Tim! I've been doin' just fine taking care of myself, and I don't need or want you hovering over me like a mama hen!"

"Annabelle, you don't have a clue how to take care of yourself. You're a bigger mess than anyone I've ever seen, an' you're gonna get yourself hurt if you don't stop thinkin' you know everything."

"Stop treating me like I'm a kid. You never have been able to see me as what I am. I'm sixteen years old, Tim, and I'll do what I want."

"No girl of mine is gonna get raped 'cause she's so high she doesn't know what she's doin', or killed because she overdosed. It ain't about you, Anna."

"Like hell it ain't," I snapped back. We were both glaring daggers at each other now, and I guess our raised voices attracted the attention of everybody else in the house 'cause Darry opened the door and stepped in.

"Annabelle, come on into the living room, please."

I shoved past Tim and Darry both and stalked into the living room, straight to the front door. I had every intention of leaving right that second, but then Sodapop stepped in front of me, lightly touching my arm. "Why don't you have some breakfast?"

"I don't want any," I snapped icily, but he didn't flinch. Instead he gently tugged me over to the couch.

"Well then sit down. We need to talk to you."

I yanked my arm from his grasp and stumbled back a step, running right into Steve. My eyes were wide, like a deer caught in a headlight, and I let my gaze travel from him to Ponyboy to Soda to Darry to Tim to Dallas.

"Maybe I don't want to talk."

"Maybe you don't have a choice," Tim snapped.

"Tim…" Darry's tone held a silent warning, and Tim turned his face away from me. Darry stepped forward, his expression gentle. "Ann, sit down." He touched his hand to my arm, but I jerked it back quickly, my eyes wide and my breathing rapid. I had the sudden vision of wolves circling a rabbit, each one ready to lunge and seize their prey. I shook my head a little, forcing the image out, and wondered if I was still on a bit of a trip.

Darry stepped back instantly, his hands in the air as if he were surrendering. "Okay. Anna, you mean a lot to all of us. We all care about you very much, but we're worried."

"I'm fine," I insisted, and Tim shook his head again, opening his mouth to say something. Soda lightly touched his shoulder though, silencing him.

"No you're not." A voice from behind me nearly made me leap from my skin, and I whirled around to see my brother standing just inside the screen door. He was shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably, but his eyes met mine with a determined lift.

"We want you to lay off the drugs, and cut back on the drinking. Please," Soda pleaded, concern etched in his eyes.

I took a step back, feeling trapped and cornered and betrayed, but Two-Bit walked toward me. "You're scaring us, Annabelle. We don't want anything to happen to you, that's all."

"I c'n take care of myself," I insisted stubbornly, but Dallas laughed out loud.

"Really? 'Cause I remember having to sit with you all night 'cause you almost killed yourself when you ODed."

I turned toward him with a glare, but he didn't back down though. Instead, he took a deep puff of his cigarette and stared me down.

"We want to help you, Anna," Darry insisted.

Soda opened his mouth to say something, but I had heard enough. "That's an outright lie an' if you really think I'm stupid enough to believe it you c'n just guess again, Curtis," I hissed and stalked angrily to the front door.

I was gone in a matter of seconds, off down the road, appreciating the chilly breeze. My blood was boiling so the cool atmosphere felt nice against my hot skin.

"Ann!" I glanced behind me and quickened my step, jogging across the street in hopes of dissuading my pursuer. He got angrier, but he kept after me. "God damn it, Annabelle, would you stop?"

I shook my head, and cussed angrily when I heard him break into a run after me. My heels were slowing me down and I felt his hand take a swipe at my arm. He made contact but didn't get a grip on me and I quickly cut into the street to get away. My foot caught though and I slipped, falling down and skinning my palms.

"Holy shit, Annab—"

I never saw the car.

* * *

Dun dun dun. So will Annabelle ever listen to everyone? Who was following Annabelle? Is she okay?


	19. You didn't hear it from me

**Author's Note: **Whew, okay, so long time no see? Yeah, little bit. I've been mucho busy, if you want an excuse. I hit a deer with my car, failed my PreCalc final, broke up with my boyfriend, had a huge blowout with a friend, etc. etc. etc. Basically, don't be mad! Lol. Hopefully it won't be another, what, two months until I update again. This story is kind of winding down, though, I think, so we'll see. Also, I have every intention of fixing some drug discrepencies that a reviewer pointed out in past chapters, but it may be a while before I have time for that. Nothing too huge should change though, and I'll let you know if something does.

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle woke up at the Curtis' and was confronted with an intervention. Angry and upset, she ran from the house. Someone followed her, she ran into the street to escape him, and was hit by a car. Dun dun dun.

**Diclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations or places. The lyrics are from Promise by Eve 6.

* * *

_"i promise not to mind if you go your way and i go mine"_

White. Glaring, painful white. It was all I saw when I opened my eyes, and just that simple movement felt so difficult that I closed them again. There was a dull beeping that echoed in my ears, but it sounded far-off, kind of like an alarm clock sounds when you're still dreaming.

As I slowly began to tug out of my sleepiness, I became aware of a pressure on my left hand. I lifted my head a tiny bit, as much as I could, and opened my eyes again.

"Annabelle?" My brother gripped my fingers tighter, strangling them, but I didn't say anything. Instead I just let my head fall back against the white pillow and nodded wearily.

"God, you scared me somethin' awful, Kid. You feel all right?" My brother said it with a tiny grin, as if he were as carefree as always, but I heard the little tremor in his voice.

I was too exhausted to even attempt to snap out some smart remark, so I just kept my mouth shut. This apparently worried Two-Bit more than if I had cussed at him.

"Annabelle?"

"You look… like… shit," I finally managed to say, teeth gritted as the pain in my right shoulder throbbed. It was true though. His hair wasn't greased and it fell down almost to his eyes, which were sunken, the usual twinkle absent.

Two-Bit grinned and ruffled my hair a little, seemingly not noticing the vicious glare I sent him. Or else he just didn't care.

He hollered toward the door, yelling loud enough to wake the dead, and my mom and a doctor came rushing in. My mom stood over by Two-Bit, one hand on his shoulder and the other gripping my fingers tightly as the doctor poked and prodded and questioned me. He messed around with the machines on the side and asked if I was in pain.

"Hell yes," I hissed, and was rewarded with a gradual numbing as blackness started to cloud at my vision. The last thing I saw before I passed back out was my brother maneuvering himself away from my bed in a wheelchair.

* * *

When I woke up, it was dark. The hospital was quiet and I didn't see anyone in my room. It took me a few minutes in the silence to remember what I had seen earlier. My brother in a wheelchair.

My breathing shallowed and I fought to keep from panicking at the thought. What the hell had happened? I couldn't remember anything after running out of the Curtis' house.

"Hey, you okay?" _Shit_. I jerked up a little, startled, and noticed her in the chair by the head of my bed.

"Kathy?" I asked, my voice scratchy and weak, and she nodded. For once she wasn't wearing her usual piles of make up and her hair was down rather than in its pinned up knot. Instead, the blonde tresses fell to her shoulders in soft waves. She looked much more beautiful than I had ever seen her.

"What're… you doin'… here?" She had to be the last person I'd ever expect to see in my hospital room, especially in the middle of the night.

"I was in your brother's room, and your ma had to get a cup of coffee so she asked me to stay with you for a few minutes." Kathy ran her fingers through her hair, the long red nails reminiscent of how she usually looked and acted, and I realized she was uncomfortable. She twisted the hair up as if she were going to pin it in a bun, but then let it fall down again as she blew a sigh out of her lips.

It took me a few seconds to latch onto her words. "Two-Bit… what happened… to 'im?"

She glanced at me, startled, her (blue, I realized) eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What're you tryin' to pull, Ann?"

"Nothin'," I answered, shaking my head, and I guess the confused look on my face finally convinced her 'cause she glanced around the dark room furtively, as if she were about to let me in on a real secret.

"Fine, but keep your mouth shut, okay? I don' know how much anyone else is plannin' on telling you, so you didn't hear it from me…" Throwing one last glance over her shoulder, Kathy turned back to me and sat in the chair by my bed. "You did some kinda drugs an' wound up at the Curtis' place. You passed out and when you woke up—"

"I know all… that. What… happened… after I left… the house?"

She tapped her red nails against the side of my bed and I wondered if she was changing her mind about telling me. "Two-Bit followed you out an' you ran across the street and tripped. That's how you hurt your shoulder and got a concussion. You been asleep for four days now, you know." She paused, looking at me, and I nodded. I hadn't known, but I was tired of her squirreling around. I wanted to know what had happened to Two-Bit, although I was getting a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Well a car was comin' and your brother jumped out to shield you or somethin' and… and he got hit."

"How is he?"

"Better than you'd think. Must be some kinda angel watching over him, I swear. He never gets hurt too bad, even though Lord knows he shoulda by now." I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth. Would she just tell me what had happened already? "He's got a gash on his head and a concussion, some nerve damage, and a fractured wrist."

"What about… the wheelchair? He… can't walk?" What on Earth had I done now? Talk about screwing up.

Kathy shook her head, "It ain't permanent. The doc said he's gonna be walkin' again in a few months. It's just that nerve damage. He can't move his legs, but they did a surgery to fix some shit and now he's in Physical Therapy."

I leaned back against the pillow with a groan and felt the prick of tears against my eyes. I'd really messed up. I wouldn't be so mad if it was just me I'd hurt; I never really cared what happened to me, but Two-Bit? He ain't my favorite guy in the world but he didn't deserve any of the shit I'd put him through.

And even after all that, he was still by my bedside when I woke up.

I was crying by then, the tears mingling with my hair and making it stick to my face. Kathy sat beside me, quiet, not comforting me but not provoking me either.

I lifted my left arm to wipe away the wetness angrily, but gasped when the jolt of pain shot through me. "Shit, Ann, are you okay?" She asked, her eyes worried as she stood over me, watching as I took shallow, pain-filled breaths.

I simply nodded and laid back, feeling more miserable than I have ever felt in my life. _I wish I had a damn weed, _I thought, and then felt a rush of anger at myself. Hadn't that been what had gotten me in so much trouble in the first place?

No more drugs, I silently resolved, wondering, even as I saw my brother's wheelchair in my mind, how long that promise would last.

* * *

"Hey Kid."

My eyes were closed and I had a cigarette held loosely in my fingers, listening to the soft crooning of Elvis Presley. I didn't see my visitor, but I knew instantly who it was. I would know his voice anywhere.

Instead of greeting him, I flicked my ashes into a tray beside my bed, and he sauntered over and sat on the edge by my legs. "How you feeling?"

Resisting the urge to snort, I just shrugged complacently. "Been better," I said with a wry smirk.

Tim nodded and we fell silent. It had been four days since the hospital had released me, and I hadn't left the house once. My mom had been hovering over me, but she'd finally run to the store a half hour ago. It took almost two hours for her to get out the door though—she wouldn't stop fussing over me. I think she was more worried I'd let my natural habits return and pull a flask or a pill out of some hidden drawer than she was that I was actually in any medical danger.

Tim cleared his throat, and for the first time, he seemed awkward and out of place. It wasn't like him to be so uncomfortable. He usually fit right into any place he was, and if he didn't, he played it off like he did. It unnerved me, like I was catching him naked or something.

I blew a puff of smoke out the side of my mouth and a wave of uncalled for loneliness washed across me. It was like, for no apparent reason, I felt horribly empty, and I didn't know what to do to get rid of that feeling. I shut my eyes again, gritting my teeth. Times like these were when I'd trip, but I was trying my damndest not to get into that shit again. I'd already flushed every pill I had stashed in my room down the toilet, and thrown out all the little bags of powder or leaves.

Tim noticed my sudden unease and he patted my knee, "you okay?"

"Yea," I answered quickly, opening my eyes and finding myself staring straight into his stormy pupils.

He nodded, reluctantly accepting my answer, and we were quiet again.

After Hound Dog gradually faded out, Tim looked me in the eyes. "Ann…"

"I know," I stopped him, staring off out my window instead of back at him. There was this horrible shifting as things fell into place, as everything that he and I had shared came to a close, and I took a good breath of smoke, hoping to fill my lungs so tight my heart wouldn't notice what it was missing.

"We'll still be friends," he said, and somehow it didn't sound so cliché coming from Tim Shepard. Still, I didn't believe it for a second.

But I just smirked sadly and said nothing. He knew as well as I did that it was a lie; I didn't need to tell him that.

Another song started to fill the air, and we let it take the place of conversation. A few minutes later, Tim stood up and he had shifted back into his normal persona. He was no longer awkward.

"I'll see ya around then."

"Yup," I nodded, not moving my gaze from my window as he left. He hovered in my doorway for a moment, watching me, but I ignored him and took another puff of my cigarette.

And then he left, pulling my door shut behind him, and I was alone again.

* * *

Ehhh. I'm not too fond of all that, but oh well.

Review please? Even though I definitely don't deserve it since it took me so long to post this pathetic little chapter...

Is that really the end of Annabelle and Tim? How's Two-Bit doing? What's going to happen to him? Will Annabelle really stick to her promise of no drugs?


	20. I won't have it any longer

**Author's Note: **Heh. All right, so it's been longer than two months... more excuses? Prom, several fights with friends, a very shortlived relationship that never really got off the ground, finals, getting back together with my exboyfriend, getting a new kitten, the end of school, the beginning of summer... take your pick. My deepest apologies, though, both for this mediocre chapter and for the long wait. Hope you enjoy even still. Reviews/criticisms are always welcome.

**Previous Chapter: **Annabelle woke up and realized that Two-Bit was in a wheelchair with nerve damage. She and Tim broke up as well.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations or places. The lyrics are from Hero/Heroine by Boys Like Girls.

* * *

_"I got a closet filled up to the brim / with the ghosts of my past and the skeletons"_

"Annabelle?"

I didn't answer, just kept my eyes shut, listening to Elvis and trying to act like I didn't care that Tim and I had just broken up. It was for the best, I knew.

My ma slowly opened my door and stepped in, frowning at the smoky haze I was lying in. "Put out that cigarette," she scolded.

I ignored her like usual, and she sat on the foot of my bed. "I saw that Shepard boy leaving here. What was he doing?" Her tone was riddled with suspicion and distrust, and I rolled my eyes.

"Came to see how I was."

"Boys like him ain't up to any good, Annabelle. You oughta stay away."

I'd been mostly mellow up to that point, and then I just felt this rush of anger and annoyance—who the hell was she to judge?

I could hear the bite in my voice as I snapped, "Right. You would know, huh?"

She frowned again. "Yea, I sure would. I throw his dad out of the bar near every night… I know his family, Annabelle."

"Don't mean you know him." _Am I really defending Tim fucking Shepard? _If I'd had any sense at all, I woulda just told her the truth and said I wasn't gonna be hangin' around him much anymore. He and I were broken up. Plus, there was really no defense for him. Tim ain't even a hood—he's a criminal.

"Do you think I don't realize what goes on in Tulsa? You think I don't know about him? I hear about him plenty, Annabelle. I know enough to know you shouldn't be around him."

"Well great. Opinion noted, _Mom_," I spat sarcastically.

She was staring at me like she had no idea who I really was, and I kept my eyes trained away from her face, looking out toward the window and remembering, suddenly, when Tim had slipped out that same window after our first time together.

"Look Annabelle, I don't want you getting in with a rough crowd like that."

I laughed out loud at that. "Right, and Two-Bit and his friends are, what, the chess club? You think you raised kids any better? We're no better 'an those Shepards." _God, why can't I shut up?_ At that point, I was just arguing to be difficult.

And I was making her mad, too. Her jaw was clenched and she snitched the cigarette from my lips, stood up, walked over to the window and stubbed it out on the sill before tossing it out. She stood there for a second, staring outside, and then turned slowly back to me, maybe a little less angry.

"You wanna know the difference between Tim and Two-Bit? Tim Shepard… Annabelle, I can't believe you want me to tell you this, you know it already… he don't care who he uses. He has no conscience, no guilt. You know better than I do about the people he's hurt. Two-Bit ain't like that." It made me horribly sad to think of the way she and I were fighting over him. I don't know, something about hearing him talked about like that—like he didn't have a drop of good in him… it just really bugged me, and I kind of hated my mom for it. She wasn't any different from the rest of Tulsa, and hell, she was completely justified if I stopped to think about it, but even still.

"I'm gonna be around Tim all I fucking want to, and there ain't a thing you can do to change that. You live your life, I'll live mine," I snarled. I was ugly, and my ma was disgusted. What else was new.

"There's gonna be some changes 'round here, whether you wanna accept 'em easily or learn them the hard way. These drugs… they ain't just a phase for you, are they? How long have you been doing them?"

I shook my head, trying to ignore her, but she was persistent.

"You're gonna be done with 'em now, I'll tell you that much. I won't have it any longer. You better get your act together, Annabelle." She left and shut my door firmly behind her.

I relaxed into the pillows behind me once she left, trying not to gnaw over her words. I knew her well enough to know that she was blowing off steam. She'd never stick to anything she threatened, so it was no use getting mad about it.

Instead, I just lit up another cigarette and cleared my mind, leaning back and letting Presley's voice stir through my mind.

* * *

"Hey Kid."

It took all I had not to groan out loud. My mom was in the next room puttering around, and she hollered, "she might be sleeping. Is she awake?"

_Well, if I wasn't then, I sure was now, _I thought with annoyance.

"Yes ma'am; She's awake, Mrs. Mathews," Darry told her.

He and Pony walked into my room and Darry perched on the windowsill while Pony hovered awkwardly by my head.

"What's up?" I asked, breaking the strained silence.

"How are you feeling?" Pony answered my question with another, and I felt a very familiar flush of annoyance, but I didn't even know why. Sober me was a real bitch, I was learning quickly. Which, granted, wasn't much different from wasted me, or high me, or tripping me…

Damn, maybe it was just me.

"Fanfuckingtastic. You?" I asked with a fake cheer to my voice.

Darry frowned at me, and Pony just looked away, embarrassed.

I felt myself soften marginally at his blush, and I backpedaled. "I'm all right. Just withdrawing, I guess," I smirked.

"So you're clean?" Darry asked.

I nodded, and he seemed vaguely satisfied, although still a little suspicious.

"What are y'all dropping by for?" I almost made some sarcastic joke about Two-Bit not being there, but then I remembered where he was and decided not to mention that. I was sure everyone was pissed at me for putting him in the hospital, and I couldn't really blame them.

"Just came to check on you. We're on our way to see Two-Bit, thought we'd drop in and see if you want to come."

I was quick to shake my head and disagree. "No thanks.

It was dead quiet, and I knew they were judging me for not coming. Finally, I added, "but tell him I say 'hey.'" It didn't seem to gain me back any points though.

Darry shook his head in resignation and stood up to leave. "I'll be in the truck, Pony," he said, patting his shoulder on his way out.

Ponyboy was still staring at me. He opened his mouth to say something, but I sent him a dark glare, and he shut it again. "Fine," he snapped and walked out after his brother, leaving me to my peace.

* * *

Those were my only real visitors. Only a week after I was let out, Two-Bit came home, hobbling along on crutches. He was apparently regaining some use of his legs, but it was sporadic and spastic, so he finally had an excuse for being clumsy.

Of course those crutches weren't enough to keep him in one place though. He kept feeling like he had to _conquer_ that damn nerve damage, swearing and clamoring all over the house just to keep himself walking. Seemed like he thought if he sat down for a minute, he would magically become paralyzed.

He was driving my mom insane. Three in the morning the night he got home, and we all wake up to a big crash from the living room, and then Two-Bit starts swearing himself blue. His voice was tight, which meant that he was hurt, and I could picture his white face and tight knuckles. Of course, now I also had to draw those crutches into my vision of him.

My mom went running in and helped him back to bed, telling him the whole time not to get up, and that if he needed a drink he should just ask her or me to get it.

I swear sometimes that guy is just a giant four-year-old. The inevitable pain he got in from hobbling everywhere never kept him still for a second. He was always doing something, and if by chance he _was_ just in his room, he had a good two or more people in there with him all the time. Kathy came and saw him a lot, and she and I were managing to be civil enough. She'd nod and occasionally say hi to me on her way to Two-Bit's room, and I'd return the greeting.

Steve and Pony came by most days after school, and Soda would stop in with Steve on the weekends, once they both got off their shift at the DX. Curly Shepard had come by once too, and stopped in to see me as well. He mentioned his brother was around with Julie Jackson lately.

Not surprising he'd gone and slept with her not more than a week after he and I ended. It still wasn't really something I wanted to hear though.

But Curly watched for my reaction, so I just shrugged and let it slide. He eventually lost interest and wandered off to see Two-Bit. I got this flash of the look on Tim's face if I was seen goin' out with Curly, but I realized he really wouldn't care at all.

So then I got to thinking… who would he be really mad about? The only people I could think of were either Dallas or the leader of the Brumly gang. Dallas just really grates on Tim's last nerve most of the time, and if I were to go out with a rival gang leader he'd see it as a betrayal or something.

I nodded, satisfied. I wasn't gonna go chasin' after the Brumly boys—everyone knows they don't need to be chased—but maybe if it just so happened that I wound up at a party with them... well, we'd just have to see.

As it were, I wasn't goin' to any parties. I finally took the bandage off my head and there was a nice little bruise on my head. 'Sides, I was still clean, and although I was itching to get a little bit of _something_ in my system, I just had to glance at my brother right down the hall and I'd remember why I shouldn't.

* * *

How long will the sobriety last? Will Annabelle ever stop being so snappy and rude? How far will she go to annoy Tim? Is she going to get over him?


	21. You leave ruins in your wake

**Author's Note:** Okay, so it's taken me forever (again) to update. Lots of excuses, but I won't list them. Instead, I'll just shut up and give you the chapter.

**Previous Chapter:** Annabelle and her mom talked, and fought, and Darry and Ponyboy came by to visit on their way to see Two-Bit. Two-Bit finally got out of the hopsital.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any familiar characters, situations, or places. The lyrics are from Who I Am Hates Who I've Been by Relient K.

* * *

_"I'm sorry for the person I became / I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change / I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again / 'cause who I am hates who I've been"_

"Take this Aspirin to your brother. Here, I'll get a glass of water," my mother shoved three white pills in the palm of my hand and filled a cup up with water from the sink.

I'd been hovering around the kitchen for the past few hours, something weighing on my mind that I wanted to talk about but hadn't found the courage to bring up yet, and she was likely getting tired of my behavior.

"Now, I'm going to work, and I expect you two to be in bed and asleep by the time I get back." She shot a stern look my way, but I just shrugged. I hadn't been planning on going out anyway, and if I did change my mind, her glare wouldn't stop me.

And then she gathered her purse and took a last look around the kitchen, looking like she was forgetting something, before sighing and shrugging a jacket on over her skimpy barmaid outfit. Then she swept out the door and was gone.

I stood in the kitchen for another second, feeling lost, and then wandered over to Two-Bit's room. He was alone, for once, and I stood in the doorway for a second, just watching him.

He was lying on his bed, his hands clasped behind his neck, staring at the ceiling. The crutches were piled by his bed, and his scars and bruises looked painfully fresh. There was this terrible ache in my heart, and before I could figure out why, I cleared my throat and stepped into his room.

"Mom told me to give you these," I said awkwardly, setting the pills and glass on the table by his bed.

"Thanks." He tossed me a small smile and then turned his eyes back to his ceiling, not even touching the pills.

I shifted from one foot to the other, staring at him and lost in thought, and after a minute, he looked back at me. "Need somethin'?"

He was watching me quietly, apathetically, and I quickly shook my head and turned to leave. I barely got to the doorframe before I bit my lip and turned back around though.

"Actually…"

My brother turned to me again, intrigued, and I shook my head. "Never mind." I hurried out of his room.

"Annabelle." His stern voice stopped me in my tracks, and I winced, stepping back through the door and meeting his gaze. "What's eatin' you?"

I crossed my arms and frowned, leaning back against the wall. "I jus' don't get you."

"Like that's anything new… Why not?"

I was fidgeting now, nervous, I realized. Nervous about having a conversation with my _brother._

"You used to know how to have a good time, you know? And then it was like you just stopped, and now you're all uptight and condescending." I wasn't exactly saying what I had wanted to say, but I didn't stop myself.

A dark look flashed across his features, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. "I still have a good time, Annabelle. I just don't drink myself silly."

I snorted in disbelief.

"You think you can't have a good time without alcohol?" His voice was incredulous.

I shrugged.

"Annabelle. I ain't gonna tell you how to live your life, but drinking and drugs… they ain't always such a hot idea. Especially for you an' me."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" I snapped.

Two-Bit sighed. "It's easier for us to get addicted. Dad was an alcoholic, and it's kinda like it's in our blood. We start, and it's hard for us to stop."

"So how did you? _Why_ did you?"

He looked surprised by the sudden turn, but caught up quickly. "I realized that I was hurtin' a lot of people with what I was doin', and that's something I never want to do. I don't like being a burden to people because I'm too wasted to see straight."

"You can't change who you are though. Sometimes you get to a certain point that you can't return from, so it's pointless tryin'." I wasn't really talking about him anymore, and he knew that, of course.

Staring me intently in the eyes, he said steadily, "You c'n always change. It might be hard, but it's always possible. It ain't that black and white, Ann. You're not either a good or a bad person. Everybody's both, and you can choose which part you give in to. You dig?"  
I nodded slowly. Not really, but it was pointless anyway.

He nodded, looking satisfied with himself, like maybe he'd made a difference in my life, and I felt another pang of this aching guilt. I quickly turned around and left, breathing heavily and shallowly. I got to kitchen and gripped the counter with my fingers, breaking out into a cold sweat. It almost felt like I was on drugs, but I knew I wasn't.

I was shaking like a leaf, consumed with the awful craving for something—anything—to stop this. I wanted vodka straight from the battle. I wanted LSD to take me away. God help me, I thought.

It wasn't until I felt the splash as a tear fell onto my hand that I realized I was crying, and then it took me another ten minutes to pull myself back together.

And without even fully comprehending what I was doin', I slipped into my stilettos and out the front door without so much as a yell good-bye to Two-Bit.

I walked for twenty minutes or so, my mind numb, and then finally heard the pulsing country music.

The party was in full-swing even on a Sunday, and I stepped in the door and breathed in a big gulp of smoky air, feeling strangely at home in this musky, rundown house.

I scanned the crowd and saw very few familiar faces. Dallas was absent, as was the rest of the Curtis' gang. Angela wasn't there, but a few girls she hung out with were. Sylvia was off in the corner with a guy from Shepard's gang, and with a sharp breath, I caught my first look at Tim since our breakup.

He was sitting over by the bar talking to Buck, a cigarette held loosely in his fingers and his stoic expression in place. There was a girl perched on his knee, and he had one hand placed on her waist, holding her to him.

I knew I was broken up with him. I knew I had expected no less from him. The drugs… Tim never woulda stood for it for long, and I never woulda let him tell me to quit, so that one was doomed from the start. And of course he'll have another girl. Just because he affected me in some great way, that don't mean I left even a dent on his life.

But even though my head knew all these things, my body didn't get the message. I felt sick to my stomach, a sharp pain in my side, and I pushed through the crowd, wanting away from the loud music. I saw Tommy in the corner, and knew that he would gladly let me buy something from him, anything to numb these feelings, and promptly felt disgusted with myself for even thinking it.

Feeling worse by the second, I finally broke free of the crowd at the base of the staircase and stumbled up to the second floor. I tried the doorknobs and when I finally found an unlocked room, I twisted the door open and gasped in shock at the sight that met my eyes.

Time felt like it was slowing down as I stared at Angela Shepard lying on the floor, her skin ghostly pale and a purple-almost-black bruise just barely visible where her shirt rode up on her stomach. The circles under her eyes were dark and heavy, and her black hair was fanned out around her on the carpet, wild and unruly, a few strands sticking to her face. She looked like an angel, or a fairy, beautiful but entirely unreachable. Her eyelids were closed, and the long dark lashes contrasted against that ethereal skin.

She still gripped an empty bottle of vodka in her fingers, and with a start, I realized that her chest was just barely rising and falling. It wasn't steady, not in the least, and before I had a chance to think about what I was doing, I was back in the hall, screaming bloody murder.

The only intelligible thing that came from my mouth was "Tim" but enough people understood that past the tears in my eyes I could see Tim turn around and stand up in shock, the girl that was with him crossing her arms as she glared at me and he strode quickly to where I stood.

I turned around and hurried back to that room, with him on my heels. "Shit shit _shit._" In a second, he had her scooped up and was stumbling down the stairs, sliding and losing his balance every once in a while, but never stopping. I was right behind him, and then we were in Buck's car.

He set Angela as lightly as he could in the backseat and I slid into the passenger. His driving put my stomach in an even worse state, but I still urged him faster and faster. The drive was silent, save for my choking sobs and his muttered curses.

It wasn't until we got to the hospital and he handed his sister off to a nurse, threatening her within an inch of her life that his sister had better be in top condition when he saw her next, that either one of us could even think about talking.

I sank into one of the plastic chairs they had in the waiting room, flashing back to when I'd sat here waiting to see Johnny a day before his death, and buried my head in my hands.

Tim was pacing in front of me, and he whirled to me with a look of pure loathing so clear in his eyes that I shrank back from him. "This is your fault."

I gaped at him.

"This is why I didn't want you around her. This is why. You're the biggest train wreck I've ever seen, you know that Annabelle? God, you leave ruins in your wake. First your brother, now my sister…"

I knew that he was just angry, upset, scared beyond belief, and that he didn't mean anything that he said. I knew that Angela's state was not a reflection of my influence, but probably had something to do with her father instead. And I snapped.

"Me? My fault? You don't even want to know what I know, Tim." I bit my lip to keep from saying more, determined to take the high road for once, see what the terrain was like.

"Oh _really_? Enlighten me, Annabelle, please." His tone was bitter and sarcastic, and it grated on my last nerve. After another minute of angry prompting from him, I let it loose, the secret that he had never seen coming, too sure that he wouldn't ever let it happen to realize that it already had.

"It's your damn stepdad, Tim! You're so wrapped up in your stupid gang to realize that he's been beatin' her for years now!"

The look on his face made me want to take it all back, to protect him from this, as strange as that sounds. Maybe even Tim Shepard needs to get looked after every once in a while.

"I'm sorry, Tim. It ain't your fault, you know that…"

Without a word, he turned on his heel and strode out of the hospital, the doors slamming shut behind him.

As soon as he was gone, I sank back into my chair, shaking like a leaf. His words kept goin' through my mind, the accusations he'd hurled at me… And he was right, ultimately. It _was_ my fault that my brother got hurt. _"You leave ruins in your wake…" _

I sat there for half an hour, alone, waiting, but for what I couldn't have said. I was sick with worry, images flashing across my mind every time I closed my eyes. Angela's closed eyes, Tim's angry glare, Two-Bit in his wheelchair, the bruise on her skin, a mirror with cocaine lines, the guys standing around me at their intervention, the pain in Tim's face when I told him about his stepdad…

I opened my eyes with a gasp, the tears falling rapidly, terrified to close them for even just a second. I was a mess, crying and trembling like that, and this old geezer across the room was staring at me, his arm set protectively around his old lady's shoulder. And then there was some Soc to the side of me sitting with his mom, who was wearing a strand of pearls and a face of grief.

Finally, I stood up and walked shakily out the doors, to the payphone I knew was on that sidewalk, and picked up the receiver. It took me a minute to remember that I needed money to make it work, but I had none. I wandered back into the ER and straight to the nurse's station.

"I need… need to use your phone…"

Without even sparing me a glance, the lady turned it toward me, and I struggled to remember the number. I hardly ever used phones.

I punched in what I hoped was the right combination, hesitating over the last digit, unsure whether it was a 6 or a 7.

"Hello?" A sugary sweet ol' granny answered, and I hung up.

Musta been a 7 then.

I tried again, and this time got it right. "Yello?"

"I-I'm at the hospital…"

"Huh? What?"

"St. John's ER."

"Who is this?"

"Ann Mathews." I don't know why I added the last name, but I wasn't really thinkin' right. "I just… I can't… I don't…" My voice cracked. "Please come." I hung up and walked slowly back to my seat right as Tim walked back in.

He sat down in the chair beside me, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket, staring straight ahead.

I didn't say nothing to him, and he didn't talk to me either.

We sat like that for some amount of time—it felt like an eternity to me—before the doors opened and two greasers walked in, glancing around, their eyes finally falling on me. Hurrying over, Pony slid into the chair next to me. "Hey, what happened? Is it Two-Bit?"

Soda stood in front of me, his hands in his pockets, watching me with concern.  
I shook my head. "She looked dead, Pony. I didn't… Shit."

"Who?"

"Angela," It was Tim who spoke, his voice gravelly, like he hadn't used it in a while.

Pony and Soda looked at him and gave him a quiet greeting.

Soda took a seat on the other side of Tim and Ponyboy sat back in his chair. "Have you heard anything yet?"

Tim an' I both shook our heads and we were all quiet for a few minutes before Ponyboy spoke up. "What happened?"

I shot a look to Tim, but he was staring at the floor. "I was at Buck's, an' I walked into one of the rooms… you shoulda seen her Pony, she was so pale… there was alcohol and bruises… she was passed out but breathing…"

That was as far as I got before I buried my head in my hands, haunted by those images again. Ponyboy set a comforting hand on my back and squeezed my shoulder. "It'll be okay."

I don't know how long it was before a nurse came out, "Tim Shepard?"

He stood up in such a hurry he would have knocked the chair over if Soda hadn't caught it, but he didn't notice. They talked for a few minutes and then Tim nodded and walked back toward us, his face relieved.

"She's alright. Still out though. Nurse said she can have two visitors in about an hour when she starts to come to."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and glanced over at Pony. He was barely suppressing a yawn, and I finally spared a glance at the clock on the wall. It was past eleven on a Sunday night. Darry wouldn't be happy if those boys didn't get home soon, and Soda was already fidgeting.

"Thanks for comin' you guys, but I'm alright now. You've got work and school tomorrow… I shouldn't have called. I was just scared."

"It's okay, we don't mind being here."

"I know. But y'all should head on out anyway. Nothing really you can do. Besides, I need someone to tell Two-Bit and my mom why I'm not home."

I managed a small grin, and Pony nodded hesitantly. "If you're sure…"

I was, and I told him that, thanking him for coming again.

Once he and Soda had left, Tim and I waited in silence for another hour for us to be allowed back.

I watched that Soc while we waited, noticing the wringing of his hands, the dark circles barely concealed with makeup under his mom's eyes… I wondered who they were waiting for news on, and whether it would be good or bad news.

I never did get to find out though, because the nurse let us into Angela's room then.

As we started walking down the hall toward her room, I slowed down, biting my lip. "If you wanna go in alone, I understand."

Tim glanced over at me, and shook his head. "It's okay." And I knew, somehow, that he didn't just mean it was okay for me to come in with him. It was also okay that I was who I was. He was saying sorry, in his own way, for what he'd said to me, and telling me that it wasn't all my fault after all.

I swallowed heavily and nodded, stepping into the room after him. I perched on a chair by the right of her bed, and Tim sat in one on the other side, grabbing one of her hands as we waited for her to wake up.

Nerves sat in my stomach, afraid that she would still be angry with me, anticipating how to word my apology, and the air around the bed seemed heavy with the past—hers and mine and Tim's.

As her eyes opened and she looked first at Tim, then at me, we both smiled tentatively at her, and things resettled after months of change. I was back to being Angela's best friend, and Tim was back to being her older brother, and nothing more to me.

Friends before, lovers then, strangers now.

The weird part was I felt like I knew him better than I knew this new me. I had the feeling it would take a while to get used to being clean, but with my best friend lying in a hospital bed beside me and my brother on crutches back home, I hoped to God the old me was gone for good.

* * *

... and The End. Thanks for reading! I'll probably (hopefully) be updating Back Home Again or Playing With Fire within the next month, and fingers crossed I'll get on a roll and have steady updates. Otherwise, I may start a new story (?). Hope you guys enjoyed this fic!


End file.
